


Fight Against the God!

by DisConsulate



Category: Angel Beats!, Homestuck
Genre: Afterlife, Deicide, F/M, M/M, Multi, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisConsulate/pseuds/DisConsulate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Egbert wakes up one night with no memory of his past life, in a school where some of the students claim that he is dead and this is the afterlife.  Everything seems idyllic enough, but what is the true nature of this place, and why is John there?  The Humans he meets seem friendly enough, at least.</p><p>Except that Rose refuses to talk on certain subjects, not least of which being parents; Jade wants lots of friends, and doesn't care if they're real people; and Dave is, if anything, more secretive than Rose about his past.</p><p>And who the hell are these upperclassmen who keep butting into the narrative?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake Up, You're Dead!

John gasped, and cool night air rushed into his lungs.  He was…pretty sure that was his name, right?  It sounded right.  John.  It was a good name—something to be proud of.  He sat up, unbidden thoughts rushing out of his head as he gazed around.

“Where…?”

He was sitting on a wide terrace on top of a hill.  To his right, a pair of modern buildings, about three or four stories in height, framed a path to some further area he couldn’t see.  To his left, a railing overlooked the hillside.  Regularly placed lampposts cast white fluorescent light on the ground, but did nothing to blot out the dizzying expanse of sky, full of stars, that stretched from end to end of the horizon no matter which way John looked.

John got to his feet and walked to the railing.  Below him was a wide courtyard—no, maybe it was a plaza?  It was big and framed by the hill on two sides, and dropped off on two other sides.  He could see sports fields in the distance, and more structures.

“Am I at school?”

He adjusted his glasses, blue eyes sweeping over the landscape some more.  Beyond the edge of what he guessed were the school grounds, there was a large expanse of forest, and mountains.  He could see a river as well, but nothing else.  A clock tower on campus poked up above a glass and metal building on a nearby hilltop, and gave the time: 4:13.

“Oh crud, it’s early.  I guess I’d better get back…uh.”

John cast about some more, trying to remember where he should go.  Was his house around here somewhere?  He didn’t…memories welled up in him.

_White house green slime spring toy proud father car grandma ashes cake Nic Cage…_

Then they were gone, slipping through his fingers like water.  He expelled a breath—he couldn't see a town in the valley anywhere, so maybe his house was somewhere else.

“I hope there’s a bus,” he said, kicking at a pebble and putting his hands in his pockets.  It was then he noticed he was wearing a uniform—black mandarin collar jacket, black slacks, and black leather shoes, like something out of an anime.  He looked himself over, eyebrows raised.

“Okay, this is obviously someone’s idea of a prank.  Ha ha, let’s drag the fat kid to a school in the middle of nowhere and put him in a cosplay uniform.”

Having deduced their clever plan—whoever ‘they’ were—John became annoyed.  Although now that he was looking at himself, he was pretty skinny.  When did…?  Actually, forget it.  This whole thing was weird enough already, and there wasn’t any sense picking apart every single passing brainwave for information when clearly none would be forthcoming.  He needed to find an adult, figure out where he was, and then find some way to get home.

“So this is some kind of school, and that means there’s a principal’s office.”

John began walking.  He wasn’t in any kind of rush—if the clock was accurate, nobody would even be there for another three hours or so at least—so he gave himself the informal tour of the campus.  And anyway, it wasn’t like it was awful to be outside.  The sky was beautiful, and there was a warm breeze every so often that made the trees of the forest rustle, a distant susurration that kept him company until the sun came up.

 

The principal wasn’t in yet.  John found his office easily enough—one of the buildings had a sign in front of it that said ‘Administration’—and wanted to sit there and wait, but his stomach growled.  He remembered passing some vending machines in one of the other buildings on his way to the still-quiet wooden hall outside the office.  There was some kind of painting of a beach hanging on the wall nearby that John regarded impassively before deciding that he would lose nothing by going to get a snack.

As he descended the stairs, the clock tower bell chimed eight times.  He exited the administration building and crossed a quad, and became immersed in crowds of students, dressed all in school uniforms like his (the girls wore blazers and pleated skirts, and John averted his eyes rather than let himself get caught staring).  He ducked into the first bathroom he found and waited for the crowds to disperse, breath suddenly coming in short gasps.  His heart raced, and he sat down on one of the toilets, clutching at his chest as he tried to stop breathing so hard and fast.

It took some time, but he calmed down, and then cursed himself.  He walked over to the sink and splashed some water in his face, trying to clear his head, which was hurting a little. 

“That was weird,” he said to the water running down the drain.

The vending machines were placed along a wall by a flight of stairs.  As John approached, he noticed a lot of posters up for different school activities.  By one of the machines, a girl with long wavy black hair stood trying to pick a drink.  John walked over to the snack machine and looked over the options.  He turned up his nose at the Doritos and vile pastries, and went instead for the fruit gushers. 

Wait, crap, he didn’t have any money.

“Uh, excuse me,” he said, turning to the girl.

“Oh!  Hi!” she said, jumping a little.  John noticed she had earbuds in, and also that she was wearing glasses (round frames to his square).  Her uniform was also different from the others that he’d seen—she’d ditched the blazer for a sailor shirt, and her skirt was blue rather than dark plaid.  She also wore sneakers.  John blinked a few times.

“Uh,” he said.

“My name’s Jade,” she said.

“I’m John,” he said.  “Do you have a dollar I could borrow?”

Jade giggled.

“Those machines don’t take regular money.  You need a ticket to get a snack.”

“Really?”

“Yep!” Jade beamed.  “I guess you’re new here.  These vending machines take lunch tickets, just like the ones in the cafeteria and down by the sports center.”

There was a clatter, and the machine in front of Jade dispensed a can of coffee.  John eyed it with distaste.

“Where can I get lunch tickets?”

“At the cafeteria,” Jade said, popping open the can and taking a swig.  “Although if you’re new here you should really stop by the office.”

“Oh, no,” John said.  “I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here.”

“But you’re wearing the uniform,” Jade said, frowning a little.

“It’s probably just someone’s idea of a prank.  I guess I’ll go see the principal and try and call my dad, then.  Where even is this place?”

“What do you mean?” Jade asked.  “You don’t know?”

“I have no idea!” John said, gesticulating with his hands a little.  “I woke up on the patio outside all by myself, and I’ve been trying to work out how I got there, and how I can get home.  To whoever orchestrated this, ha ha, joke’s over!  You’ve had your fun!”

John called this last to the building at large.  Jade, for her part, looked torn between laughter and concern.

“Don't be fooled by the lack of response,” John said.  “They’re watching, and probably laughing their asses off.”

“John,” Jade said.  “It’s not a prank.”

“What?  You know what’s going on here?”

Jade heaved a sigh and took another sip.

“Great!  You can help me get out, then.  Forget about the dollar thing.  Snacks are overrated.”

“John,” Jade said, poking him in the shoulder to get him to shut up.  “There isn’t really a good way to say this, but…you’re dead.”

John looked at her for a full five seconds before bursting out laughing.

“Ha!  Wow, you got me!”

“Hey, don’t laugh!  I’m dead, too!” Jade said, offended.

“No, stop, please, you’re killing me!  My sides, I can’t handle it!”

“It’s not a joke!”

“Wow, okay,” he said, laughter subsiding  a little.  “So this whole place is in on it!  Great!  Just my luck.  You know, that’s really kind of screwed up, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Jade frowned, arms crossed.

“I’m not kidding, John.  If you just got here this morning, that means you died, and now you’re stuck here for the rest of the afterlife,” she huffed.

John snickered.

“Right, like I’m going to believe that.  I think I’d remember if I died.”

In truth, he couldn’t remember anything.  But he wasn’t about to tell Jade that.

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.  Sorry, my mistake,” Jade conceded.  She abruptly turned away, muttering to herself.  “Man, NPC’s just get more and more sophisticated.  I keep thinking they’re real!  Stupid Harley!  Stupid!”

She walked outside through a nearby glass door, murmurings trailing off.  John watched her go, shrugged, and walked back to the principal’s office.  He was still giggling a little to himself.

“Ha ha.  Dead.  What a joke!  What a stupid joke, though, jeez,” he said.  “Talk about bad taste.  I’ll have to come up with something good to get back at her with.”

 

Evidently the principal was in on the prank as well.  John found himself with a hall pass, a class schedule, a dormitory room assignment, and instructions to report to homeroom.  John eyed the office phone (which would come in handy just as soon as he remembered his home phone number, or even his dad’s cell number), and tilted the wall painting on his way out, but otherwise refrained from anything too serious.  If he was going to be stuck here for a while, he might as well case the place before knuckling down for some serious counter-pranking.

John’s homeroom was on the third floor of the main classroom building.  Homeroom period was just wrapping up when he knocked.  The teacher accepted his note, and explained to the class.

“It seems we have a new student.  Everyone, this is John Egbert.”

John fidgeted a little.  Egbert sounded right.  Why couldn’t he remember it?  The teacher was still talking.

“John, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

Crap!

“Hi, I’m John, and I like Nic Cage movies.  And playing the piano.”

The teacher nodded.  John sighed, relieved.

“Why don’t you take an empty seat at the back for now, and we can find you a better spot tomorrow.”

John nodded, and was about to go sit down when the bell rang.  Students stood up and began heading out, talking loudly.  A few waved to John as they passed.  John could feel his heart rate climbing again.  There was a tap on his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Hello.”

A girl with short blonde hair held back by a pink headband stood behind him, her uniform normal except for a badge on her lapel.  She wore a lavender backpack from which a few keychains hung.  One was of a frowning squid.

“I’m this year’s class representative, Rose Lalonde.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She offered him her hand, which he numbly shook, unable to momentarily speak.  What came out was something like garbled rasp.  Rose raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

John tried again.

“John,” he managed to get out.

“Yes, I was sitting just there when you were introduced.  Do you have class now?”

John fumbled for his schedule, hands sweating.  Someone bumped into him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rose said.  “As your representative, I’ve taken it upon myself to show you the ropes, so to speak.  I’m sure your first class teacher will understand.  Please come with me.”

The halls were clearing up as Rose led him out.

“Have you been to the nurse’s office?” Rose asked him.

“Uh, no.  I just got here,” he said, a little breathy.

“We should stop there first.”

The nurse’s office was a long room lined with beds and cabinets stocked with medicine, a row of windows along one wall overlooking the courtyard.  Rose next took John to the cafeteria, which was its own building next to the main class building, and the sports center down the hill.  She rounded out the tour with a brief look into the library (between the cafeteria and the sports center), the arts building, and a cursory glance in the direction of the dorms (next to the library), before returning to the class building.

“What do you have next on your schedule?” she asked.

“Looks like math next,” John said, making a face.

“Mm,” Rose hummed.  “Sounds dreadfully dull.  I have the next period free.  Won’t you join me on the roof?”

“The roof?”

“Yes.  It’s what we call the large flat space on top of the building.”

“Oh, thanks, now I’ll never forget what the word ‘roof’ means,” John rolled his eyes.  Rose smirked.  “Sure, math’s dumb anyway.”

She led him all the way up to the roof access door, and out onto a fenced in lot that encompassed most of the area, except for a few air conditioning units and skylights.  Rose sat down at the edge, removing her backpack and taking out a pair of knitting needles and an unfinished scarf.  John walked over to the fence and watched as students moved across the courtyard below.

“So where did you go to school before you came here?” Rose asked.  John frowned.

“I don’t think I went to school before,” he said after a while.  Rose continued knitting, needles clicking rhythmically.

“You were homeschooled, then?” she asked.  “Where do you live?”

John felt his headache coming back.

“I thought we were going to hang out.  What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?”

The clicking stopped.

“It’s a fairly basic question,” Rose said.  “I, for example, had a private tutor for most of my life, and lived comfortably in a rural estate in New York.  There, you see?  Now you know something about me.  We’re advancing our relationship from ‘familiar face’ to ‘casual acquaintance’.”

John huffed.

“What is this, some kind of dating sim?  I was talking to someone earlier who was talking about NPC’s.”

“What did they look like?”

“Oh man, she was kind of crazy, though.  Long black hair, round glasses, and she wore a totally different uniform from everyone else.  She also kept trying to tell me I was dead.  What a joke.”

“Oh, you met Jade, then,” Rose said, smiling.  “She’s sweet.”

“Is she another ‘casual acquaintance’?” John said, using air quotes.

“No, I would say she’s more of a ‘regular acquaintance’.  We’ve had more time to level up our relationship, you see.”

John eyed Rose suspiciously.

“You’re not crazy, too, are you?” he asked.

“That depends on what you mean when you use the word,” Rose shot back.  “If you’re referring to Jade’s insistence that we have all shed our mortal coil, then yes I would have to say that I’m a little unhinged.”

John slapped his hand to his face.

“Great, so even you’re in on this!  I bet this whole place is set up to brainwash new students.”

“Not at all,” Rose said.  “If you broach the subject with most any of the other students, they won’t have any more idea than you do what you’re talking about.  Then again, if you get them talking long enough they’ll eventually start to repeat themselves a fair bit, hence Jade’s calling them NPC’s.  Personally, I call them consorts.”

“Really,” John said flatly.  “About how long does _that_ take?”

“By my calculation around 467.33 days.  They have about enough in terms of intelligence and conversation branches to last an entire school year.”

John stared at her, agape. 

“What?  I’m basing this off anecdotal evidence, if that’s what’s got you so concerned.”

“So you really think you’re dead?”

“I know I am,” Rose said placidly.

“And that means I’m also dead?”

“Well I don’t know.  Have you tried putting it to the test?”

“No, I haven’t,” John said.  “Because that’s completely crazy!  I don’t want to kill myself!”

“Really?” Rose said, eyebrow quirked.  “Given your level of social anxiety around large crowds, I would’ve thought otherwise.”

“Wow, Rose.”

Rose stopped knitting again.  She frowned at his facial expression.

“I’m…sorry,” she said.  “I shouldn’t have accused.”

“I’ve _never_ tried to kill myself.  Why would you think that’s an okay thing to say to someone you just met?”

Rose regarded him.

“Well, in this place, it’s not an unfair assumption.”

“You know what?  I’m not listening to this,” John broke away from the fence and walked to the exit.  “Jade was crazy, but you’re kind of rude and also crazy.  I’ve got class.”

He threw open the stairwell door and tromped down.  He wasn’t going to bother checking his schedule; Rose was right, this thing with large crowds was definitely some kind of anxiety, which meant a trip to the nurse’s office for some kind of medication, he supposed.

“Bluh, bluh, crazy witch,” he muttered to himself.

John decided to skip classes for the rest of the day.  He wasn’t a proper student as far as he was concerned—this was still some kind of misunderstanding, he needed to get to a phone, but first he needed to calm down and try and figure out a plan.  He retreated to the dorms to check out his room assignment, and maybe take a nap.

 

After class, Rose packed up her things and made her way over to the arts building.  She signed in with the teacher on duty, and began searching the music rooms.  Her quarry was located in the recording booth, where he’d set up shop for what Rose would guess had been most of the day, and would continue into the night.  A laptop sat by the recording monitor, bags of chips littered the ground, cables running here and there hooked up to equipment that had been scavenged from other parts of the building. 

Rose smirked and closed the door behind her with a snap.  She watched a blonde boy her age, enormous headphones on, head bopping to the music, as he fiddled with a mixer.  He muttered to himself as he did so, shirtsleeves rolled up and fairly wrinkled.  Rose dropped her backpack next to the door and sat in the spinning chair by the laptop.  The boy finally looked up and noticed she was there.

“Hello, Dave,” Rose said as he jumped.  He hid his eyes behind a pair of aviators, but Rose knew how to read shock into other parts of his face.  He pulled the headphones down to hang around his neck, heavy bass drifting out of them loud enough Rose could hear from where she sat.

“Jesus, Rose, let a dude know before you’re gonna creep on him like that.  How long you been sitting there?”

“But I’ve always been here, Dave,” Rose said.  “Just out of sight, watching over your shoulder.  I’m like a guardian angel.”

“More like I’m being haunted by a freaky ghost chick.  I bet you’re the one who keeps rearranging my records when I’m not looking, just to fuck with me.”

“Well, ghost chick is a rather apt way to put it,” Rose mused.

“I fucking knew it.  I’m calling a priest and getting you exorcised.”

“Jesus wept, you know,” Rose said.

“Careful, your nerd is showing,” Dave quipped.

“Lies!  I am nothing but the model student you see before you.”

“Too late, Lalonde, I’m blowing the whistle on you.  The whole school’s gonna know about your encyclopedic knowledge of nineties horror films.  Your reputation will accordingly tank.”

“Issuing threats to an elected official?” Rose snarked.  “I could have you thrown into after school detention for that, and see if I don’t!”

“You can strong-arm me all you want, but you can’t hide the truth.”

“You couldn’t understand the truth if you were staring it in the face.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Dave shrugged.  He turned back to the mixing board while Rose rummaged through her backpack for a book.  “What brings you to my booth today?”

Rose opens the book to her bookmark, a knitted black tassel, and tried to remember where she left off.  Ah, yes.  High-minded intrigue.

“There was a new student in homeroom today,” she said idly.  Dave paused.

“So?”

“I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but he seemed to find the presence of large crowds distressing, and had a pretty thorough grounding in the Nic Cage oeuvre.”

Dave unconsciously touched his aviators.

“That so,” he said.

“I believe also he’s staying in your dorm.  Now, it’s too early to tell,” Rose turned the page.  “But he might be human.”

“That’d make, what, four of us?”

Rose hummed in agreement. 

“At the very least.”

Dave nodded, sliding his headphones back on and going back to his work.  Rose finished a chapter before they spoke again.

“So, I’m guessing you want me to sound him out, make sure he’s the real deal, is that it?”

“Don't be too extreme with him,” Rose said reprovingly.

“I’m not going to straight up run him through, come on, I’ve learned my lesson already.”

“Good.  Interesting word choice.”

Dave stared at her.  Rose read her book with a look of fascination.  Dave continued staring.  Rose glanced up once, twice, and then began sniggering.

“Yeah, you laugh it up, Lalonde,” Dave said.  “I’ve got your number.  Don’t think I’m not on to your snarky horseshit.”

“Dave, why don’t we go to dinner soon?” Rose said, checking her watch.

“Nah, I’m good.  Tell Jade I said hi, though,” he said, waving her off.

 

Afternoon sun streamed in through the window of Jake’s room.  From outside, the sounds of people down at the sports fields could be heard drifting up the hill: the crack of baseball bats, or the starting pistol for the track & field team.  Jake’s breath caught, a quiet gasp in his throat that came out in a rush a moment later, carrying a sigh.  His bed creaked as he shifted his weight, grasping a fistful of hair in one hand, and bed sheets in the other.

“Oh, Dirk, mate,” he said, and it came out breathy and higher than he’d intended.

Dirk settled in over him, kissing him gently and persistently, from his stubbly chin down to his bare collarbone.  Jake moaned as Dirk began moving into him, toes curling.  The bed creaked again, louder.  He released the sheets and grasped at Dirk’s hips, pulling as hard as he could with each thrust until his head swam and his vision danced.

There was another crack of a baseball bat.

“Oh god, Dirk.”

 

They lay on the tangled bedspread, Jake’s legs wrapped around Dirk’s legs, hands held loosely, or draped over waists.  Jake, without his glasses, could make out the little details at this distance: Dirk’s drowsy, orange eyes; the stray blonde hairs framing his face with its high cheekbones.  His thin, somewhat bruised lips were relaxed in a contented smile.  Jake closed his eyes and tried to feel it.

Dirk pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me just yet,” he chided.  Jake chuckled.

“I swear, old chum, your appetites are nigh insatiable.”

“There’s a provable limit to how long my sex drive can go,” Dirk says.  “We just haven’t found it yet.”

Jake sighs and rolls onto his back, releasing Dirk’s hands.  Dirk raises himself up on his elbow.

“Hey, I mean it,” he said, drawing a finger along Jake’s jaw.

“I’m sorry, mate, I’m just a bit tired,” Jake said, smiling apologetically.  Dirk pouted a little then shrugged, lying back down and getting comfortable against Jake’s side.  Jake waited for his breathing to even out before letting his smile fade.  He stared at the ceiling, or rather, he stared at the top bunk where his roommate would sleep if he wasn’t currently cuddled up next to him.

He heaved a deep sigh.

 

John woke with a start.

The sun had set already, and the lamps around campus had lit up, casting their white light around the grounds.  Somewhere outside he could hear the reverberations of loud music echoing off the sports center.

“Huh.  Is there a concert or something happening?”

It definitely sounded like a concert.  More accurately, a rave, which was about the last thing John wanted to attend.  On the other hand, maybe if he stayed far enough away from the crowds he could maybe appreciate the beats without hyperventilating.  He put his shoes on, and exited the dorm room.

The rave was set up inside the cafeteria, it looked like.  John passed a few students heading in that direction and picked up a few snippets of their conversations.

“Another guerilla show!”

“TurntechGodhead’s so great!”

There were a few smaller groups hanging around outside the large glass building, but John didn’t need to elbow his way past to see.  Laserlights played over the windows, and the balconies and columns inside.  At the back, someone had set up an extensive speaker system, in the middle of which were a pair of boards of some kind John couldn’t tell.  Behind them, the DJ—that TurntechGodhead guy—stood, eyes covered by aviators, headphones around his neck, wearing a white undershirt with a broken record scribbled on it (it looked scribbled at this distance, but the windows were also kind of fogging up, so the level of detail John could pick up was rapidly diminishing).  John wasn’t an expert on dance music, but he liked the bass (it was all bass).

John sat at the top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard, facing the cafeteria and leaning against the railing, thinking.  He’d had some dreams while napping that felt like memories, but nothing he could really make sense of.  His stomach growled suddenly—he’d skipped every meal that day, and was starving.

“Well crud,” he said, looking at the thronging masses pressed against the glass of the cafeteria.  “I guess I’m using the vending machine.”

The music stopped sometime later as John was getting a bag of gushers to go with his coffee.  He walked back outside to see crowds of students milling away back to the dorms, and security guards standing outside the cafeteria, herding people out.  He passed a couple of students talking as he returned to his dorm.

“Figures someone would call the teachers.”

“Who do you think it was this time?  I heard it’s always someone on the student council.”

John decided to take a somewhat circuitous route back to avoid the major groups he saw, and ended up walking by the library.  Up the hill by the arts building, he could see someone messing around with one of the side doors.  Curiosity got the better of him.

“Hey,” he called up.  “What are you doing?”

The person jumped and turned around, looking down at him.  It was dark just there, so he couldn't see the person’s face.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re breaking into the arts building.”

“Well, yeah,” the person said.  “’cuz that’s what I’m doing.  Move along, folks, nothing to see here.”

John climbed up the hill anyway to get a closer look at who he was talking to.

“I told you to buzz off,” they said, a little heatedly.  John recognized the aviators.

“Hey, you’re that Turntech guy,” he said.

“Yeah, so you’ve heard of me,” the guy said, shrugging.

“You were just at that concert, right?”

“Right up until the 5-0 showed up and busted the place, yeah.”

“How’d you get out so fast?”

“Ninja reflexes,” he said without a pause before the lock finally clicked and the door swung open.  “And superior lockpicking skills.  That’s a trade secret, so don’t go blabbing about it or I’ll have to kill you.”

“Please don’t do that,” John said, frowning.

“Lemme guess, you’re that new kid Rose told me about.”

John had followed the guy inside the arts building, which was dark and echoey.  He stopped, though.

“You know Rose?”

“Sure I know Rose.  But you didn’t know about me, and I’m something of a minor celebrity around here, so either you’ve been living up in the hills all this time, or you’re the new kid.”

“Yeah, I guess,” John said.  “You caught me.”

“I’m Dave, by the way.”

Dave’s voice was growing distant, like he was rounding a corner or something that John couldn't see very well.

“Cool.  Hey, Dave, it’s too dark in here.  I can’t see where you’re going.”

There wasn’t an answer, so John shrugged and left.

His meal of junk food was less than entirely satisfying, and the school didn’t have internet access.  The in _tra_ net was fully accessible, but it left much to be desired in the way of entertaining sites unrelated to education and learning.  Maybe there was a private network he could connect to.  He’d figure it out later, once minesweeper got boring.

Early morning found John, bored, unable to sleep.  His room clock read 4:25, and he just wasn't tired.  He decided he needed another snack, so he got up, got dressed, and fished a couple of lunch tickets out of his desk drawer.

Campus was quiet as he trekked over to the class building.  It wasn’t until he was on the terrace that he realized he was chilly, and also that the ground was damp with dew.  He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked out at the campus again.  Mist clung around the lamps, giving them a fuzzy look like light-up cotton balls.  The stars were dimmer tonight as a consequence, but John didn’t care either way. 

There was someone already at the vending machines when John got there.

“’sup.”

“Uh, hi, Dave,” John said.  Dave leaned against the wall sipping a coffee, watching John make his selections.  “What are you doing up this late?”

Dave shrugged.  They fell into step as John gathered up his purchases and turned to go.

“So Rose told you the score, right?” Dave asked.

“Huh?”

“The part where you’re dead and this is the afterlife,” Dave said.  “Come on, new kid, try to keep up.”

“Give me a break,” John said, rolling his eyes.  “Look, it was funny the first time, but the joke’s over!  You guys can stop now.”

“You remember what it was like before here?” Dave asked suddenly.

“Uh, why?”

“Just curious.  See, in my case, I lived in and grew up in a place totally different from this,” he gestured to the night-filled valley.  “And I remember kicking the bucket pretty vividly.  Stands to reason I’m dead.”

“Okay?”

“I’m asking if you’ve got anything like that.”

“No,” John said.  “I mean.  I know I shouldn’t be here.”

“Cool.  That’s all I needed to know,” Dave said, and pushed John down the stairs at the top of the hill.  John slipped on the dewy steps, cracked his head, and blacked out.

 

John came to with a start, sitting up suddenly and then immediately regretting it.

“Ow, my head,” he said, flopping back down.  He was in the nurse’s office, head wrapped in a bandage.  Memories of what happened flooded into his mind. 

“Oh, what the hell, Dave.”

He heard voices talking outside, and recognized Rose.  Shit, she was coming inside.  John pretended to be asleep.  A moment later, someone was hitting him with a pillow.

“Wake up, John!  Doctor’s orders!”

“Jade, you’re not a doctor.  You’re not even a hot nurse.”

“Whatever, Dave!  It’s not like the nurse is actually here right now.”

John opened his eyes despite himself, flailing a little to fend off the pillow assault.  Jade stood over him, pillow poised for attack, smiling broadly at him.  Dave stood behind her, face impassive.  Rose was at the foot of his bed, observing the proceedings.

“Welcome back to the land of the dead,” she said.

“Pretty sure I’m still alive,” John protested weakly.

“No, dude, you were dead as a doornail,” Dave said, taking something out of his pocket and handing it to Jade.  “You know what they say, ‘pics or it didn’t happen.’”

“Wow, Dave.  That’s really morbid,” Jade said, wrinkling her nose and handing a Polaroid to John.  John saw himself, head split open and bleeding all over the steps.  There was…a lot of blood.  John touched his forehead gingerly.  It was a little sore, but otherwise still intact.

“Didn’t figure he’d believe us if he couldn’t see it with his own eyes, you know how it is.”

“Well, as you can plainly see,” Rose interrupted.  “It’s as we’ve been saying all along.”

John looked back at the picture.  There wasn’t a way he could think of it was staged.  He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, this is a lot to take in at once.”

“Of course,” Rose said.  “Please, take your time.  You have all of eternity, as far as any of us can tell.  Jade’s been here the longest, so she could tell you something of the wait.”

“Sorry I was rude to you yesterday,” she said. 

“That’s okay,” John said.

“Well, we’d better let him rest,” Jade said, turning away.  “Head injuries hurt.”

She shot a look at Dave as she headed out.

“Don’t give me that look, Harley,” he said, following after.  “How else was I going to argue the case?  Talking had already failed twice.”

“You didn’t have to abruptly kill him, Dave, and you know it!”

“He looks fine to me.”

Rose remained until they were out of earshot before speaking again.

“Are you sure you have no recollections of life before here?”

“I have a few things,” John said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “But it’s pretty fuzzy.  I didn’t even know my own last name until the teacher read it in class.”

Rose nodded.

“That’s rather singular.  Hopefully this state of affairs does not persist—even if you don't remember everything, everyone here knows how they died.  Well, except the consorts.”

“So wait, only some of us are dead?  What about the rest of them?”

“As far as we can tell they act without any real agency.  They really are just like video game constructs.”

“I see,” John said.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Rose said.  “If this is the afterlife, it’s very peaceful.  Nothing bad seems to happen, and the consorts are by and large benevolent and respectful.  It’s all rather idyllic.”

John nodded. 

“So, why are we here, then?  Shouldn’t there be more people in the afterlife?”

Rose hummed.

“That is the question, isn’t it?”

The bell rang at that moment, and Rose had to leave for class, leaving John sitting in the nurse’s office.


	2. The Girl On The Bridge

By the end of the second day, John still hadn’t attended any classes.  He had spent most of the day after waking up in the nurse’s office wandering the perimeter of the school, looking for a front gate, or some kind of path leading away.  What he had found had been disheartening to say the least.

The campus was organized in more or less a perfect square, despite the drastically uneven geography.  The bottom of the square, by the sports fields, was hemmed in by the forest, and while there were a number of paths that went in and among them as far as John could tell in his ramblings they were just nature hikes that didn’t go anywhere.  John was hardly an outdoorsman, and didn’t think he could reasonably escape by making a break through the forest.

The left side of the square, by the dorms, was also hemmed in by forest, but it was considerably rockier and more treacherous, being most of the side of a hill.  The top of the square did have a wall running along it, but when John tried to climb over, he fell quite a lot, and then a teacher saw him and he had to run away.

The right side of the square was blocked by a river.  On the other hand, there was a bridge that crossed it, wide enough that maybe a car or two could drive across side by side.  Things were looking up for John until he crossed to the other side and found that the path just ended at the forest.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he swore, kicking a tree in frustration.  This was the worst!  He spent the next hour walking up and down the far bank of the river (well, the cliff top above the far bank of the river, at any rate) kicking trees and inventing new curse words.

When he returned to the bridge, the sun was setting, and there was a girl sitting on the railing.  She was, John saw, rather pretty: a golden blonde bob that curled up at the base of her neck, black painted lips bent into a cute smile.  She wasn’t in a school uniform at all.  She wore a white T-shirt with a neck that was stretched so it fell off her shoulders, revealing the straps of a black sports bra.  John blushed a little when he saw this and looked away, but his eyes trailed down to her pink mini skirt and black tights, and nope that was just as bad.  She was perched just so on the railing that John got maximum exposure to this view.

She was also watching him.

“You just gonna stand there ogling, or you gonna introduce yourself?” she asked.

“Hi,” John said, still red in the face.  “I’m John.”

“Roxy,” she said, holding out her hand as if she expected him to kiss it.  John hesitantly shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, glancing around.  “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Just about as long as it took me to get here, what with some hot bachelor-looking dude running around and tripping up all my special concealed alarms,” she said as if this weren’t a big deal.  “So prolly like five minutes.  Do you come here often?”

“Special concealed alarms?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know, to let me know peeps is gonna come knockin’, the uzhe,” Roxy said.  “Enough about that boring stuff.  Why don’t you tell me what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I was looking for a way out of here,” John said.  He pointed back to the forest.  “I didn’t see any alarms.”

“Well duh, that’d be because they’re _concealed_.  So you were looking for a way out of the madhouse, huh?”

“Uh, yes.  Do you know if there’s a way out of this valley?  I can’t find any roads and I’ve been looking all day.”

“Well!” Roxy said, standing up to balance on the railing.  “As it so happens, I do!  Maybe if you ask all nice and proper, I’d be inclined to escort the fine gentleman.”

John reddened again.

“Okay, sure,” he said.  “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, would the lady please show me the way out of this valley?”

“Indubitably, sir!” she bowed, and winked and him.  “Lol.  Ain’t that just too proper.”

She hopped down off the bridge and held out her arm for John to take before leading him up into the forest.  When the sun went down, she took out a flashlight to keep them from tripping over any stray roots or bushes.

“So tell me about yourself, Johnny boy,” Roxy said, smiling brightly at him.

“Uh, not much to tell,” John said.  “I woke up outside a couple nights ago and I’ve been stuck here ever since.  I must’ve fallen or something because I don’t remember much from before that.  I know what my house looks like, and that it’s not anywhere near here, and I bet my dad’s worried sick about me.  I bet he’s already called the cops to put a search out.  Whoever’s pulling this prank is going to be in deep shit when they finally find me.”

“Oh yeah, the deepest shit,” Roxy said, nodding.  “Like, metaphysics deep.”

“Yeah, I guess,” John said.  “In the meantime, I’ve been skipping classes, because I’m not a student here so why should I pretend that I am?”

“Yeah!  Fight the powah!  We ain’t a part of your system!”

“Ha ha.  You know, Roxy, you’re a lot funnier than the other people I’ve met.”

“Aw, shucks, now I’m blushing.”

“I’m serious, though,” John said.  Roxy turned and led him through a tree hollow between two large rocks.  “I’ve met a couple other students and they keep trying to convince me that this is some kind of high school dating sim after life, or something.”

“Whaaat?  That’s mad cray,” Roxy said from up ahead.  John had to duck his head to squeeze through.

“I know, right?”

“If this were some dating sim, then my question is where are all the hot dudes lining up to date me, huh?” Roxy gave John a hand up.  They were at the base of a flight of stairs set into the side of a steep slope.  “I’m young!  I’m attractive!  But every guy down there’s all stiff, lol, as robots.  Ha, it’s punny.”

John laughed along.

“Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.  One of them even pushed me down the stairs to try and prove it.”

“No!”

“Yep.  It hurt like a bitch, but I’m okay now.  Which is actually pretty lucky, because he showed me a picture of what I looked like afterwards and wow was I bleeding a lot.”

Roxy stopped about two thirds of the way up the steps and turned to face John, a serious look in her eyes.

“John, I promise you right now: I will not try to push you down the stairs.”

“Uh.  Thanks?” John said.  “I honestly wasn’t worried that you would.”

“Good,” she said, turning back to the ascent.  “We’re almost there, anyway.”

They came to the top of the stairs where there was a clearing near the peak of the hill.  At the top, John could see a radio tower, although there weren’t any lights on it.

“Woah!” he said.

“That’s not even the best part!” Roxy said, leading him up the hill toward it.  At the top, John turned and looked back down into the valley.  He could see the school clearly from where he stood, lamps reduced to glowing dots running along the pathways between the buildings.

“Why can’t we see this from campus?”

“Shh,” Roxy said, putting a finger to his mouth.  “All in good time.”

She walked past the tower and down the other side.  When John followed her, he gasped.  Just down the hill from where they stood was an enormous complex of stone and concrete buildings, all surrounded by a chain-link fence and lit by floodlights.  There were a couple of satellite dishes placed here and there, and what looked like an observatory perched on a far roof.  The glare was enough to kill his night vision, so he couldn’t see much beyond it except empty darkness.

“Roxy, wait up!”

Roxy was at the gate, unlocking it with a set of keys.  The yard beyond was gravel and blacktop, their footsteps crunching as Roxy led him to a small door set into the black edifice of the nearest building.

“What is this place?” he asked.

“Found it a while back after I decided to take the nopetrain out of there,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the school.  “Dunno whose it was originally, but it’s pretty rad.  Just wait.”

Inside was a brightly lit lobby and reception area, which Roxy strode through without a second glance.  She led him down a long hall lined with offices painted white and light blue.  At the end of the hall, there was a fork and a sign that said,

<\- Security, Manufactory, Observatory, Utilities

-> Servers, Research & Development, Archives, Cafeteria

“This place is, like, major science heaven,” Roxy said.  “Like, all those genius German dudes back in the day wish they could’ve worked here.  We got all kinds of labs ‘n junk just sitting around, all prepped and ready.”

“I’m impressed,” John said.  “Also concerned.  Is there anyone else here?”

“Nope!  Just you, me, and a bunch of servers,” Roxy said with a wink, leading him into the server room.  Stacks of servers stood in rows by the thousands.  John whistled: the amount of computing power present here had to be enormous.  What would anyone even do with it all?  He couldn’t imagine.

Roxy walked ahead through this, into a smaller room with a bunch of blank monitors and keyboards, and into yet another smaller room with a ladder going up.  She ascended and opened a hatch, and John followed into what must have been her room.

“Welcome to Casa de la Roxy,” she spread her arms wide.

The walls were lined with windows of every size, or posters of books or movies John hadn’t heard of.  A couple of game systems sat under a wide-screen television in one corner next to a pile of pink plushies.  Roxy’s bed was unmade, and the shelf next to it was packed with preserved mutant kittens.  John noticed that most of the windows had power chords, and in fact that the ones that were on showed drastically different views.

“What’s up with these window things?”

“Those’re my fenestrated panes,” Roxy said, rummaging among the game systems.  “They’re pretty useful.  So, what’ll it be first: Problem Sleuth or Bard Quest?”

She held up two games, one in each hand, with incredibly shitty box art that John suspected Roxy might have drawn herself.

“I don’t know either of those,” he said.

“What!  You must’ve led a sheltered life, you poor innocent babby,” she said.  She came close and papped him on the cheek.  “But don’t worry.  We’ll go nice and easy for you, and soon you’ll be a real man just like everyone else.”

John gave her a concerned look, but she just turned and walked back to the consoles to put in Bard Quest.

“Pop a squat,” she said, patting the floor next to her.  “Don’t worry, this game’s so shitty, it’s like they didn’t even finish it.”

 

Some time later, the power abruptly cut.

“Hahaha, I’ve got you on the ropes, you boney bastard oh gdi,” Roxy cursed, throwing the controller down angrily.  Red emergency lights lit the room.

“What’s going on?” John asked.

“Dunno,” Roxy said, eying the windows.  Despite the power cut, most of them were still active.  “Lemme check.”

She went around and flipped switches on the sides of the de-activated ones.  John saw a view of the river from above; the cafeteria at school from what looked like just above the lunch ticket vendors; the back of a painting, tilted somewhat although not enough to give any idea what the other side looked like; the radio tower from down the hill; the facility from up the hill.

“Ha!  There we go,” Roxy said, looking through this last window.  A pair of dark figures were messing with something down by one of the buildings.  “Rat bastards are messin’ with my breaker box.”

“Do you have security cameras just everywhere?” John asked dubiously.

“Nah, just fenestrated panes.  Like I said, pretty useful.  Let’s go, we’ve got some malefactors to take care of.”

“Uh,” John said as Roxy climbed down the ladder quickly.  John followed after her to see her disappear into another door he hadn’t seen earlier.  Through it was a room full of gun cases.  “Roxy?  Where did you get all of these…?”

“I made most of ‘em,” she said, sounding pretty proud.  “Some of ‘em were already here.  Wasn’t hard to copy, you know?”

John didn’t know.  It wouldn’t have occurred to John that reverse engineering firearms was a useful skill with real world applications.  She tossed him a handgun.

“You know how to shoot one o’those?”

“No?”

“Eh, now’s as good a time as any to learn,” she shrugged, strapping a high powered sniper rifle to her back.  “You’re on point, a’ight?  Go out there and distact me some intruders while I get set up.”

“What?  Why?”

“Big handsome guy like you, why not?” Roxy winked at John again, who blushed and quickly retreated from the room.  He remembered more or less the way out.

When he exited to the yard, he turned right to go toward where Roxy had seen the intruders.  By the corner of the lot, some two hundred yards of walking later, he found the breaker box.  The wires had been cut clean.  Nearby an alley led further into the complex, down which John could hear the fading crunch of walking.

Following quickly after, he ran down the alley and out into an open court in the midst of the complex.  The two figures noticed him.  One carried a rifle, and had her hair tucked largely without success beneath a balaclava, and the other carried a sword.

“Hold it right there!” the girl said, leveling her rifle at him.  It was Jade.

“Holy shit, John?” the other one said.

“Dave?” John asked, a bit flabbergasted.  He had raised the pistol at them when he rounded the corner (just like if this were Call of Duty, now that he thought about it).

“John?  What are you doing here?” Jade asked, lowering her rifle.

Floodlights turned on at that moment, blinding them all.  Roxy’s voice projected from a set of loudspeakers set over a far pair of doors.

“Alright, listen up, you suspicious pair of miscreants.  You’re gonna put your weapons down nice and slow, and get the hell off my lawn, or I’mma have to get medieval on your asses.”

Neither Dave nor Jade moved for a moment, and then both of them ran at John.  John reflexively pulled the trigger, only to hear the click of an empty chamber.  He hadn’t loaded it before he’d left Roxy’s company.

“Shit!” he said.

There was a loud crack, and the gravel next to Jade exploded in a small cloud of dust.

“Hold still, already!” Roxy said, irritated.  “Don’t let them escape, Johnny!”

John took the pistol and threw it as hard as he could for lack of better things to do with it.  Dave dodged to the side, sword held low and forward.  The next moment, John felt a stab of pain in his guts, and Dave was checking him with his shoulder.

“Sorry, John,” he said.  “I’ll explain later.”

He yanked his sword out and potato sacked John as Jade ran by, turning to crouch and pick off shots at the spotlights.  Two of them blew out, casting the alley in darkness.  An agonizing minute later, John saw the stars again, and trees.  They’d escaped.  Then he blacked out from blood loss.

 

John came to with a start in the infirmary, and immediately regretted it.

“Ow, my stomach,” he said, clutching at his belly.  “Oh holy fuck.”

His shirt had been sliced open, and was stained all over with blood.  His stomach, however, was perfectly smooth, as if he hadn’t been run through with a sword the previous night.  He touched the spot where he’d been wounded experimentally, just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.  It felt normal enough.

“Yo, John.”

John jumped, and saw Dave leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets.  John fought down the urge to jump out the window behind him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Dave,” John asked, voice shaking a little.

“Just dropping in to say hi, how’s the sword wound,” Dave said.  “Looks pretty good from here.”

John reflexively pulled the covers up.  Dave smirked.

“No need to be bashful.  But seriously now, I just came to check on you this time.  No sudden murdering on the docket, although to be fair you did try to shoot me last time so I can totally plead self defense in that case.”

“Yeah, well, I was having a good time and then you and Jade decided to stage Cops and Robbers or whatever.  What were you doing up there?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dave said, eyebrow raised.

“You first,” John said, crossing his arms.  “You said you’d explain, didn’t you?”

“I did say that, yeah,” Dave scratched his chin absently.  “So, are you still in denial about this being the afterlife?”

John said nothing.

“Whatever,” Dave went on.  “Jade and I were looking into that facility, okay, obviously.  We figured we’d find some answers to a few of the Big Questions, if you know what I’m saying.”

John raised an eyebrow dubiously.

“No, I really don’t.”

“You know, ‘why are we here,’ ‘who’s in charge of this place,’ things like that.” Dave shifted his weight so he was no longer leaning on the door, but he didn’t enter the room.  “You probably don’t care since you still take everything at face value, but you’ll come around at some point.  And I know it’s pretty fucked up for me to be saying this since I’ve killed you twice now, but we, Rose Jade and I, aren’t the bad guys here.”

John didn’t really believe him, but there wasn’t any point saying so.  The bell rang, and students filed past outside, but Dave didn’t move from his spot in the door.

“Aren’t you going to class?” John asked after a bit.

“Nah, class is for squares,” Dave smirked.  “It’s also pointless.  It’s not like I’m going to graduate into the real world and get a job.”

“So what do you do all day?”

Dave shrugged off the question.

“You still haven’t told me what you were doing out there,” he said.

“I was trying to find a way to get out of here,” John replied glibly.  “I made a friend on the way, and she showed me around inside.”

“Kinky.”

John frowned.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“That’d be the lady that tried to shoot us, then,” Dave concluded.  “You oughtta be careful about who you trust out there.  You might’ve been fraternizing with the enemy for all you know.”

“Yeah, and you might’ve been coming to kidnap me back to school,” John shot back.  “Oh wait, you did!”

Dave shrugged again.

“Suit yourself.  It’s the same to me if you mistrust us or don’t.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked out.  John sat there and watched after him, but he did not return.  Nor was he replaced by either Rose or Jade, coming again to try to convince him.  He was feeling fine, and it was playing all kinds of hell with his head, but he didn’t want to just sit there all day so he swung his feet over and looked for his shoes so he could leave.

There was a knocking in the room.  John jumped a little and looked around.  Between a pair of cabinets was a landscape painting.  He walked over to it and waited, listening.  The knocking came again, and it was definitely from behind the painting.  John carefully lifted it up, nearly dropping it when he saw Roxy waving to him from behind a fenestrated pane.  The area around her was dark, but it was unmistakably her.

“Yo, Johnny boy, do me a favor and unlatch this sucker,” she said.

“What the hell is going on here?” he said.  “Are you outside?”

“Yeah, and I’d really appreciate being inside if it’s all the same,” she huffed.  “I don’t like hanging out in here very long if I can help it.”

John found the window latch and unhooked it, sliding the pane aside so Roxy could tumble out into the nurse’s office.  She somersaulted to the floor, landing on her feet with her arms splayed for balance.  Grinning, she stood up.

“Haha, did you see that?  Fuckin’ nailed it!”

John was poking his head through the pane.  The place through it was black, although there appeared to be a flat surface around the pane itself.  The air felt…dead, somehow.  A howling whisper nagged at the edge of his hearing, as well, which was disconcerting.  Roxy pulled him back through and shut the pane.

“Hey now, don’t get too caught up in the void,” she said.  “Who knows what’s out there?”

“So what are those things exactly?  You never really said.”

Roxy shrugged, biting her cheek a little while she thought about it.

“I guess they’re kind of like portals.  Yeah, you ever play Portal?  Sweet ass game, that was, and such a classy villain, too,” Roxy became very animated.  “Like, what a broad, amirite?”

“I don’t remember,” John said.  “I don’t have any memories before waking up here.”

“What!?” Roxy exclaimed.  “No wonder you were trying to escape!  I was thinking all the way up yesterday, ‘damn, this guy’s way bodacious, it’s be such a shame if he turns out to be a fakey fake construct.’  You don’t have a clue about anything, do you?”

“No, I guess not,” John said, helplessly.

“Lemme lay it down for you,” Roxy said, gesturing with her hands like she was placing something on a table.  “This is the afterlife.  You’re as dead as a dead thing that’s dead.”

“Yeah, everyone else has been saying that, too,” John said.  “You, and Dave, and Rose, and Jade.”

“Woah, wait, there’s more of us?” Roxy said, excitedly.  “Tits!  You gotta introduce me sometime, I’ve been dying up there all by my lonesome.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” John said.  “Dave and Jade tried to break into your place last night.”

“What!” Roxy exclaimed.  “Those guys?  Grr.  Just who do they think they are, vandalizing a girl’s secret mountain laboratory?”

“So wait, explain about the panes,” John said.  “How do they work?”

“Pretty high-minded science stuff, you wouldn’t understand it,” Roxy said dismissively.  “Basically they let you look into a kind of void, and if you hook two of ‘em up they form a kind of bridge you can use to travel.  It’s how I get anywhere these days, bein’ such a busy woman.”

Roxy flipped her hair smugly with one hand.

“How many of these do you have?”

“Oh, I dunno if I should say,” Roxy said, looking around as if suddenly conscious of where she was.  “The walls have ears.”

She tapped her nose.

“We should take this conversation somewhere more private,” she nodded at the pane.

John gave it some thought, and decided he’d rather spend his time listening to Roxy chat a lot than potentially run into any of the others, even if there was a chance that Roxy was actually the evil mastermind behind all of this.

 

Through the pane they went, and a disorienting odyssey it was.  Roxy went first, and gave John a hand up, but while John figured that there would be a moment of getting used to the gravity changing what he wasn’t prepared for was Roxy pulling him through, and then pushing off quite suddenly to fly into the air, the lit pane growing distant below them.

“Woah!” he shouted!  The not-air wasn’t quite whistling through his ears, and the whispering was growing louder.

“Things’s different on the other side,” Roxy called back.  “We’ll be outta here soon, don’t worry.”

Another pane was rapidly approaching from above, growing large and larger.  John braced for impact, but all that happened was they passed through the open pane and into Roxy’s room.  Roxy did another somersault and landed flawlessly, while John wiped out completely.  Luckily he landed in the plushy pile.

“Nice one,” Roxy snickered as he struggled to get up.

“Are all your trips through the panes like that?” John asked.

“Only the most radically extreme ones,” Roxy said, adopting a surfer accent.  “I’ve walked between panes before, it just takes a lot longer, subjectively speaking.”

“These are incredible!  Did you make them?”

“Ha!  I wish.  These were here when I found the place, I just figured out how to work ‘em.”

John’s mind was alive with possibilities as he looked at all the destinations Roxy was hooked up to.  So many pranks he could pull, and so quickly!  This was a trickster’s gold mine.  John turned to Roxy and took her by the shoulders, staring her right in the eye.

“Roxy, this is amazing.  This is probably the most important thing I have found since I woke up on the school terrace.  This moment is precious.  Embrace that moment with me, Roxy.”

Roxy was looking at John with wide-eyed awe.

“Now, I have a favor to ask you.”

 

Rose frowned as she stirred her soup around at dinner.  Dave sat across from her, one hand holding a fork, the other hand on the bench next to him.  Jade sat next to him, her posture mirroring his.  Rose would have bet their hands were joined, for ‘irony’ purposes no doubt, but wasn’t in the mood to poke fun at either of them for their barely-concealed dalliance.

“That’s troubling,” she said again.

“That’s one way to put it,” Dave replied, shrugging and taking a bite of ravioli.

“What do you think we should do about it?” Jade asked.

“I’ll have to give it some thought,” Rose replied.  “You should focus on finding out who that girl is.  Surely she can’t stay holed away in there all the time.”

“You want I should tail John again?” Dave asked.  “He said he was on good terms with her.”

“You probably should’ve just done that earlier,” Rose said, looking around the cafeteria.  They were seated on the second level balcony, their table affording a wide view of the place, but John wasn’t visible among the crowds of students below.

“Yeah, because following him will definitely get him to trust us,” Jade huffed.  Rose looked at her sharply.  “What?  Every time we’ve talked he’s gotten another reason not to believe anything we say.  Dave keeps killing him, you keep being…you!”

“And his opinion of you is that you are somewhat deficient in your rational faculties.”

“Exactly!” Jade said, gesticulating with her spoon.  “What we need to do is just not push him on the whole death issue.  For all we know, maybe he really _does_ remember being alive, but it was so miserable that he’s just blocking it out so he doesn’t have to deal with it.  We might be hurting him without even knowing it.”

Rose’s eyebrows had shot up into her bangs.

“I admit that thought hadn’t occurred to me,” she said.  “Very astute.”

“How about this: you guys just stop trying to help him out for a bit and let me talk to him.  He may think I’m crazy, but at least he isn’t scared of me.”

Rose nodded.  Dave chewed another mouthful of pasta impassively.  He swallowed, took a deep breath, and cleared his throat.

“Right then, now that’s settled,” he said.  “Who’s up for Street Fighter?”

“It’s on, coolkid,” Jade said.

“I think I’ll pass, thanks,” Rose replied, snickering.  “Wouldn’t want to burden anyone unduly with my presence.”

“Aw, Rose, don’t be like that!” Jade pouted.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, this is a strictly kid-friendly affair,” Dave quipped.

“Brutal violence with a dash of paranoid cold war era caricature always is,” Rose replied, smiling amusedly.

“Damn straight.”

 

The school didn’t care about delinquency.  It had been a week since Jake arrived, and about that long since he’d been living in the dorm with his strange, alluring, but needy roommate.  Jake was fond of Dirk, to be sure!  Obviously!  All suggestions to the contrary should be struck from the record forthwith.

Nevertheless, while Dirk slept, nude as the day he’d been born, Jake slipped out of bed and quietly dressed.  He’d taken some liberties with the school uniform—the slacks were now shorts (very short shorts), for example.  He’d rolled up the sleeves to the button up so his arms felt less constricted, and he’d asked Dirk to sew some pockets into the jacket.  He looked a little ridiculous, he’d admit, but he felt loads better.  All he needed were a pair of boots, but the greenhouses by the sports center were heavily guarded (there was a rather stern looking girl down there who openly carried a rifle around and told Jake she’d call the teachers if he messed around with her pumpkins.  He’d fled shortly afterwards, not wishing to invoke her wrath).

Jake hadn’t attended classes that week.  He doubted he’d ever attempt it.  What was the point, when he wasn’t going to grow up?  He didn’t see the need to crack open any books, when he had Dirk to look after.  He slipped out the door and closed it as softly as he could, so as not to disturb the sleeping man.

One place that _wasn’t_ heavily guarded was the sports center, which had a rather excellent mat room.  Jake found breaking in wasn’t difficult with a little forward planning—he could prop open the basketball court door during the day ever so slightly, and no one would check it before the teachers went…wherever it is they went off to at the end of the school day.  Clearly not home.  The campus didn’t even have any roads leading to it.  Past the basketball court, he could slip into the cages through the window and steal the keys to any part of the building he liked.

The mat room was a spacious room with a set of foldout bleachers along one wall, probably for fisticuffs tournaments.  Jake shed his jacket, shirt, and shoes by the door and went to the storage closet for a pair of gloves.  He dragged out a couple of punching bags to hang up on a set of hooks by one wall, and then set about his warm-ups.  Wouldn’t do to pull a muscle again!  He hadn’t explained to Dirk about his nighttime bouts with the bags, and didn’t want to.  If it came up, it’d come up, but Jake wasn’t going to hasten that conversation into being.

He stretched out his torso, his arms, his wrists.  He jogged around the room a couple of times to get his blood pumping.  Then he squared off against the first punching bag.

 

Jab.  Jab.  Cross.  Right hook.  Jake was ten years old and his grandma was dying before him.  Left hook, step over backhand.  Jab-jab-jab-cross!  Uppercut!  The bag swung around precipitously, so Jake dodged around punching at it with as much strength as he could muster.  Jab-hook-hook-cross-cross-uppercut!  With a yell, Jake open-palm struck the bag, knocking it free of its hook.  He was panting, sweat dripping from his brows, his fingertips.  He moved to the next bag.

 

Jab.  Left hook.  Right hook.  Jake was ten years old, burning his grandma’s remains so the scavengers wouldn’t eat her.


	3. Prankster's Revenge

_Three days later…_

 

Jade skipped merrily down the hill to the greenhouses, bag swinging in her hand as she went.  The morning sun peaked over the trees brightly, warming her down to her bones.  It was always balmy here, which was good for her garden, and even better for her disposition!  Nothing could get her down today.  Absolutely nothing.  Rose was always so dour with her vague goth thing, and Dave’s rambling tended toward the pessimistic a lot.  But not this girl!  The afterlife may be a homogeneous expanse of repetitious school days, but Jade would be darned if she didn’t make the best of it.

She’d rounded the corner of the sports center and was trotting toward the greenhouses when she saw someone messing around outside them.  It was a familiar shock of black hair and glasses combo, though, so she smiled and hastened her approach.

“Hey, John!” she called.

John seemed surprised to see her, looking a little guarded as she came to a stop in front of him.

“Hi, Jade,” he said.  “What brings you here so early?”

“I’m basically the queen of these gardens, John,” Jade said.  “I come down here every morning to check on the pumpkins!  But what about you?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and put her hands on her hips.

“You’d better not have been messing around in there,” she said.  “If you were, I’ll have to kick your ass!”

“No!  I don’t know a thing about gardening!” John said, rather loudly.  “I was just checking them out to see what was inside!  Obviously.”

“Okay,” Jade said slowly.  “I’ll buy that for now.  So where’ve you been these past couple of days?  I haven’t seen you around.”

“I’ve been about,” John replied.  Jade heaved a sigh.

“John, I know we got off to a rocky start,” she said.  “But I don’t really want you to feel like you have to avoid us.  I like making friends!  And Dave and Rose do, too, even if they’re cagey, passive aggressive little fuckheads about it.”

John laughed nervously.

“Well, just aggressive in Dave’s case,” he corrected.  “What with the whole killing me twice thing.  Which I still don’t buy, just by the way!”

“Okay!” Jade said.

“Okay?” John asked, nonplussed.

“Yeah, okay,” Jade replied.

“You’re not going to try and beat me with a shovel until I agree with you?”

“Uh, no?” Jade said, and John felt she was being a little too condescending with her tone.  “Why would I?  I’d probably break the shovel on your stubborn butt.”

“Hey!  My butt is not that stubborn!” John retorted.

“Seems pretty stubborn to me!”

“What does stubborn butt even mean?  When did this become a thing people say?”

“I dunno, since I said it I guess,” Jade said.  “Look, all I’m saying is: let’s be friends, okay?  Truce?”

Jade offered her hand, which John shook a little reluctantly.

“Okay, truce, I guess,” he said.

“Good!” Jade beamed.  “Now get the fuck out of here before I find out what you did to my plants.”

John stepped aside quickly, beating a rapid retreat while Jade walked up to the greenhouses.  She noticed he’d left the door ajar and scoffed a little to herself as she pushed it open.  Was it really so hard to just close it behind him?  Boys, she thought, so la—

There was a clattering, a splash, and suddenly she was dripping with water.  A now-empty bucket bounced off her shoulder and hit the ground.  Jade was shocked, and didn’t move at first.  She shook her head, then got a good look at her pumpkins and almost screamed.  It transformed into a howl of rage in her throat instead.

Every pumpkin in the place had been scribbled on in bright colors.  They all had faces, now, some with wizard hats, and some with weird stubble, and some with speech bubbles saying things like, ‘expelliarm _this_ ’ and ‘I said put the bunny back in the box’.  Jade was going to have to wash off every one of those.  She whipped around and stormed out.

“JOOOOOOHN!  YOU FUCKASS, WHERE DID YOU GO?”

She saw John, laughing, still walking away, by the sports center.  He broke into a run when he saw her.  She dropped her bag, hiked up her socks and took off after him.  Call her crazy, but she was fast, and her target had made the mistake of sticking around.

“Woah, shit!” he said when he saw her gaining on him.  He was fumbling with the door to the sports center, which meant he was a dead man.

“You’re gonna pay for that, John!” she shouted, feet pounding on the stone walkway.  John got the door open before she could reach him, slamming it in her face.  She ripped it open after him, watching him disappear through the lobby into an office before running inside.

The office, however, was empty when she tore inside, coming to a screeching halt before the desk.  She sniffed, looking around the place—empty desk, filing cabinets, trophy rack, tasteless painting of a window looking at the sports center from up the hill (it wasn’t even realistic).  She poked around under the desk, and anywhere else a high school aged boy could fit himself into, but he was gone.

“Huh,” she said.  “Just because I can’t find you doesn’t mean you aren’t dead meat the next time I see you!”

She shouted it to the ceiling, checked behind the door really quickly to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, and then went to scour the rest of the building.  She’d make him pay for this.  Nobody fucks with Jade Harley, or her garden.  Nobody.

 

Rose had slept in that morning, and couldn’t for the life of her figure out how.  She always set her alarm clock before going to sleep, and yet it had failed to ring.  It was in a poor mood, then, that she hastily scrubbed her face, grabbed her knitting bag to shove into her backpack, and pulled on her shoes as she was heading out the door.  At the very least she hadn’t completely missed homeroom period, but given a tossup between eating breakfast and making her apologies to a semi-autonomous world construct, she chose food.

However, matters only escalated.

As she approached the cafeteria, she joined a large crowd of students also clamoring for breakfast.  They were being shepherded along by teachers and campus security officials, who were very keen that they form an orderly line.  Rose saw why in short order: someone had, in the night evidently, scrawled in paint on the glass edifice of the cafeteria a hideous mix of blue and pink graffiti:

_Row Row!  Fight the POWAH!_

_rosebud was a sled._

_Omg LOLOLOLOLOLOL_

_welcome to the party, pal!_

_Luek, I am ur FATER *FAETHRE *FATHER f yes nailed it_

And so on.  But largest of all, in blue:

_i am NOT DEAD._

Rose grimaced.  She wasn’t sure how, but if this wasn’t the work of John Egbert, then she would resign her position as class representative (which she was hardly planning on doing).  She filed past with the rest of the student body, and supposed that the delay would carry over into classes.  It was a small favor, but still, she’d take it.

The inside of the cafeteria was hardly better than the exterior, although there was significantly less paint.  Someone, again probably John, although the logistics were beginning to become cartoonish, had filled the place with balloons and streamers, and an astonishing amount of shaving cream.  Several loud bursts and screams told Rose why: the balloons themselves were filled with shaving cream, covering anyone hapless or malicious enough to attempt to pop them with a musky-smelling layer of foam.  If they were carrying a tray of food, it was rendered inedible.  Rose turned out of the line at the earliest opportunity to escape through a side door—vending machine coffee was looking more and more appealing by the minute.

The vending machines, however, had not been spared: Rose inserted her lunch ticket and made her selection, only for the machine to spit it back out at her.  She tried several more times, on different machines, but all to no avail.  Becoming frustrated, crankier, and now without the comfort of a caffeine buzz, she kicked the nearest machine.  It began to spit out lunch tickets like Rose had just won the raffle.  With a growl of anger, she picked up a handful and tore them to shreds, spying the touchscreen interface as she did so.

It said simply, ‘chillax yo!’

Rose did not ‘chillax’.  Rose stormed off to her first class, hoping the monotony of lecture would calm her frayed nerves.  She fumed her way through history, stomping up the stairs to the roof during the next period.  This morning was a sweater morning, not a scarf morning, she decided as she threw her backpack down and sat against the fence.  She reached into her bag, suddenly conscious of the fact that her knitting was bulkier than when she had last worked on it.  Fearing the worst, she withdrew the article on top, flaring it out so as to spare herself prolonged, dawning horror.  In retrospect, viewing the atrocity all at once wasn’t better.

Whoever (it was John Egbert.  It was John fucking Egbert) had reset her alarm had also, somehow, mostly completed the sweater she had been knitting.  The stitch work was…admittedly not bad for a boy with no apparent memories from life, but that wasn’t what caused her to bunch it in her fists and scream to the high heavens.

“JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNN!”

The sweater was black, and she had been in the process of knitting a bone-white squid on the front.  The squid had been taken out and replaced with an enormous red heart, and signed, ‘with love, Roxy + John’.  The heart had been outlined in pink.  _Pink!_   It was a sacrilege.  She would have to take out every single stitch if she wanted to correct the error, but that wasn’t how Rose Lalonde rolled.  Oh no.

She swore she would get even with John Egbert, and his friend Roxy (the logistics of the day’s vandalism were beginning to make more sense with the addition of an accomplice).  Her resolve set, she finished off the last few stitches of the sweater (how kind of them to leave the damn thing _unfinished_ even), folded it _just so_ , and placed it back in her backpack.  Then, fishing out a roll of blue yarn, she began to knit another sweater.

 

Dave was laughing his ass off.

He sat on the roof of the arts center, legs dangling over the edge, watching the mayhem.  He’d been there most of the night, in fact, listening to his jams and fucking around on his laptop (the school issued laptops, but none of the students could have telephones or printers without teacher supervision, what the hell), so he was perfectly aware of what John Egbert and his sassy blonde friend were up to as they tiptoed about campus in the dead of night.  He was all for it, personally, because fuck this place and its complete lack of cool.  The system could use some shaking up every now and then, and if that’s what the new kid wanted to do, more power to him.

He’d heard Jade’s howl of rage and snickered at the sight of her stalking around the sports center like a dog on the hunt.  She even _sniffed_ at the air a couple of times, for real.  When the sun rose and he could see clearly what they’d done to the cafeteria, his snickering had turned into a low chuckle that only grew in volume as students crowded around it, and teachers tried to assert some kind of order.  What order was there to assert?  Don’t touch the paintings, or you’ll catch the Delinquency Virus?  He wasn’t sure what was going on with those periodic loud pops and screams from inside, but he could only assume it was harmless since they were still letting people into the building.  What a fucking joke.

The piece de résistance, however, was almost certainly Rose.  Dave watched her join the crowd at the cafeteria, and then saw her slip out ten minutes later to hit up the class building.  He’d shrugged and gone back to his mindless shenanigans until she had broken down the door to the roof of the class building, sat down, and then screamed John’s name to the sky.  Dave couldn’t even believe his eyes as he watched her make serious effort to turn knitting into an act of warfare.  He completely lost it, and didn't care that there were a few students pointing at him from down below.  John had somehow _gotten_ to Rose, the unflappable ice queen of the human resistance.  He was a legend—no, he was a goddamn _god_ sent from hell to torment them for all time, and it was beautiful.

Dave wasn’t in the least bit surprised, and wondered idly what sort of prankster bullshit he’d have to endure when his turn came up.

Eventually Dave grew exhausted from all this laughter and public exposure, and decided to retire to his den.  By which he meant the recording booth because where the hell else was he going to spend his time?  In class?  In the openly available music room?  Gardening with Jade?  Actually, that sounded pretty clutch now that he thought about it, except for all the dirt and fertilizer getting in his shit.  He’d have to take her up on that standing offer to weed the flower patch one of these days, if for no other reason than to ironically wear a gardening apron and sunhat.  But he wasn’t that desperate for street cred.

When he got to the recording booth, however, the door was locked.  He tried the handle a few times, but it remained steadfastly shut.  Dave took a step back, surveyed the door, and weighed some pros and cons.  Finally he shrugged—he had his laptop, and that was the important thing—and walked to the office of the head of the theater department.

“Excuse me,” he said, poking his head in.  “Someone’s locked the recording studio, and I’ve got a project for Music Theory I gotta work on.”

Dave stood a few feet back as the door to the recording booth was unlocked and opened for him.  He was expecting to get a talking to about the mess, possibly even earn himself some detention that he’d never attend.  However, the theater teacher simply opened the booth, said a few things about not damaging the equipment, and walked away.  Dave was confused until he saw that the entire booth had been cleaned, and was now spotless.  His sense of foreboding grew as he examined the place, looking for hidden traps—there were none, but someone had placed a tasteless painting of a dead crow against one wall, and the good mixer was gone.  Dave clicked his tongue and took the painting down, prepared to dodge out of the way of…well, far be it from him to fathom the vicissitudes of the master prankster.

Behind the painting was a metal frame with glass panes that showed nothing but blackness behind them.  A cord ran from the pane to the surge protector Dave had stolen from the scene shop, which wasn’t suspicious in the least.  He set the painting aside and checked the frame for some kind of on-switch.  Once the pane was up and running, Dave stood back to admire the view.

He watched as John Egbert placed the good mixer on the ground outside and ran off.  Well, that was easy.  Good going, John, your genius has once again outshined everyone, was Dave’s thought as he trudged outside to retrieve the good mixer.

There was pandemonium up by the cafeteria.  Dave snickered as he watched students covered in shaving cream file miserably out as the teachers attempted to scrub down the windows.  The mixer was on a narrow path between the library and the arts center, so Dave stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered on over, glancing every so often over his shoulder just to be on the safe side.  He tapped the mixer with his toe and, satisfied it wasn’t booby trapped, tucked it under his arm.  Then he glanced left and saw, attached to the wall, a metal frame identical to the one in the recording booth, except that it showed the interior of the booth and not the outside path.

He tapped the glass experimentally.  Then, through the panes, he saw John enter the booth.  Little bastard was quick, Dave would give him that.  He was messing around with Dave’s backpack and aw _hell_ no.  John turned and fucking waved at Dave as he took his laptop out and ran from the room.  Dave sprinted as fast as he could back into the arts center, taking the shortest route he could think of to try and head John off—the recording booth was in the middle of a hall, so it’s not like he was lacking in places to hide.  He ditched the mixer at the booth and checked every classroom, to no avail.  Then he stopped.  He was being stupid.  John wanted to run him ragged for whatever endgame payoff he had in store.  Dave just had to be smarter than that.

He returned to the booth and sulked in the spinning chair before glancing at the pane again.  John had set his laptop outside in the path.  He must’ve done it while Dave was checking classrooms, because he hadn’t seen him pass (obviously, or there would’ve been a proper strife).  Dave jogged back outside to where his laptop was, tackling it and grabbing it to his chest as he rolled out of the way of any potential projectiles.  Nothing came, so he went back to the pane to bear witness to whatever other bullshit shenanigans John was riling him up with.

Sure enough, his stupid buckteeth grinned at him from the recording booth.  Dave raised an unamused eyebrow at him while John started pantomiming to him.  First, he mimicked setting something down.

“No, dude, fuck that,” Dave said.  “I’m wise to your game, Egbert, don't think you’re gonna trick me that easy.”

John then mimed unlocking the pane.  Well fuck him, looks like this weird video window thing had a latch.  Dave reflected on the wisdom of blundering into an obvious trap and decided he’d rather not.  He shook his head.  John shrugged, and then took the edges of the frame from his end and moved it.  The booth behind him veered and pitched like he was setting it down on the floor.  John waved down at Dave again, and unlatched the window from his side.

The window in front of Dave opened of its own accord, and before he could register his confusion or protest this unexpected occurrence he was pelted in the face with a pie.  It was apple pie, and rather well made at that.  The foil tin fell to the ground when a second pie shot out of the window, Dave barely ducking it this time.  It splattered harmlessly against the wall behind him, and as he straightened up looking at it another pie hit him in the back of the head.  He spun, and dodged another flying dessert, and then it was as if a dam had broken, and the dam held back a small lake of baked goods.  Dave rolled out of the way, shielding his laptop as best he could from the sugary onslaught which rapidly filled the space between the arts center and the library with a pastel rainbow of desecrated pastries.  Dave looked on sadly as he licked his lips and tasted the deliciousness of pie.  But it was all ruined now.  All of it.  Goodbye, pie.  Goodbye.

He retreated to his dorm room for the first time in he didn’t know how long to change his clothes and get a shower.  He set his laptop on the desk, careful to lock the door behind him in case either John or his friend stopped by for part two.  Once clean and smelling marginally less like apples, he booted his laptop.  Maybe he’d update his secret blog with the morning’s events.

As soon as he opened his desktop, all of his applications opened at once and his computer crashed.  Dave checked to see that no stray frosting had gotten into the case, but couldn’t find anything.  Something John did after he’d stolen it?  He wouldn’t have had a lot of time, though.  He restarted his computer to see if the problem was just a fluke.

This time when he opened his desktop an application he’d never heard of or installed opened up and began blasting the most obnoxious pop song he’d ever heard.  He tried to exit the program, but couldn’t, and looked on in horror as a pink anime cat girl popped up and began dancing in time with the music.  Dave sat through the song once to see what would happen, and was not disappointed.

“uh, by the way, senpai,” said the pink anime girl in a text bubble.  “I wiped ur hard disc.  Oops!”

Dave slammed his laptop shut.

He was going to kill John Egbert.  Again.

 

John was elated.  Everything had gone so smoothly!  He was half-tempted to just go back to the lab and rest on his laurels, maybe play some more Bard Quest with Roxy.  But he had one last thing to do, and he couldn’t be stopped.  He was a perpetual pranking machine, and he’d been let off the rails.  Or something along those lines.

Most of the teachers were distracted by the vending machines or the cafeteria, but the principle and his secretaries were still at their posts, which was a problem for John’s purposes.  Roxy had exactly one fenestrated pane set up in the administrative building, fortuitously right outside the principles office, and it was to this portal that John went after pelting Dave with a cart of desserts he and Roxy had lifted from the cafeteria.  As for Roxy, she’d gone to recover some of the fenestrated panes they’d placed around campus before returning to the lab for some R&R, as she put it.  John was flying solo for the rest of the day.

John opened the pane, shifting the seascape painting aside so he could sneak out into the hallway.  He listened for a moment at the door to the principle’s office for voices, hearing one talking as if on the phone.  John snuck to the other end of the hall to check for sentries, but it ended in a small sitting area at the top of the stairs with no one in sight.  But there wasn’t really anything he could use.  John checked his inventory for spare supplies (his.  His pockets.  He checked his pockets for supplies.  He was thinking of this whole thing as too much like a video game level).  He had a few balloons left and a half-empty can of shaving cream.  It’d have to do, he supposed.

He knocked on the principle’s door.

“Uh, hi,” he said, improvising.  “I wanted to report and incident oooof bullying!”

The principle let him inside, saying how that was a serious offense against school policy.  John let him talk while scoping the room again—nothing had changed, so all he needed to do was get the principle out for long enough to use the phone.  He held the can of shaving cream behind his back, finger on the trigger.

“Yeah, a couple of kids have been teasing me and saying rude things between classes.”

Eh, why not throw them all under a bus while he was at it?  The principle asked him for names.

“I don’t know their last names,” John admitted.  “But one is named Jade, and she’s almost never in uniform.  One is Rose.  She’s the class representative.  And one is Dave.  He’s the guy who plays loud music after hours?”

The principle nodded and sat down, assuring John that everything would be taken care of and he wouldn’t have to worry about bullies again.

“Great!”

The principle was blinded by a face full of shaving cream, gasping and spluttering as John unloaded as much of the can as he could before tossing it aside and running out.  The principle followed, but he found nothing but an empty hall.  Wiping shaving cream out of his face, he stomped after the assailing miscreant with either the intention of detaining him himself, or getting one of his secretaries to have one of the teachers bring him in.  Also he needed to wash his face off.

John waited until the principle passed before slipping back out the fenestrated pane and sidling into the now-vacant office like the master of stealth he was.  Just to be doubly safe, he locked the office door from the inside and, for triple safety, shoved a chair under the knob.  A vague memory floated up to the surface of his consciousness stating that this is what they did in the movies when they were using a room they weren’t supposed to and didn’t want to be disturbed.

There it was.  The desk phone.  John ran forward excitedly, lifting the receiver and punching in the first string of numbers that came to mind.  He hoped it was home, but for all he knew he’d be calling someone completely random.  As long as they sent help, he was okay with that, and was sure they’d forgive him in time for intruding on their life.  Three rings later and the line picked up.

“Hello, dad?” John said without waiting for a greeting.  “Listen, I’m trapped at some kind of crazy school in the middle of nowhere.  They won’t let me leave, and the other students are kind of terrible.  Oh, but I did meet this really pretty girl who lives in an abandoned lab up the mountain that’s hidden behind some kind of camouflage force field.  Roxy, that’s her name, wasn’t very good at explaining how it worked.  Anyway, call the FBI or someone and come and find me please.  I just want to go home.”

There was a steady beep, and a cool female voice spoke.

“The number you dialed has been disconnected.  Please hang up and try again.”

John hung up the phone and tried a different number.

“Hello, dad?  Are you there?”

-Beep-

“The number you dialed has been disconnected.  Please hang up and try again.”

“Dad?  Please, are you there?  Answer the phone, dad.”

-Beep-

-Beep-

“The number you dialed has been disconnected.  Please hang up and try again.”

John did so.  And again.  And again.

“Dad?”

-Beep-

-Beep-

“The number you dialed has been disconnected.  Please—.”

Slam!

“Hello?”

-Beep-

-Beep-

“The number you dialed has been—.”

Slam!

“Hello?  Anyone?  Please?”

-Beep-

-Beep-

“The number you—.”

John’s shoulders shook as he punched in number after number.  He gritted his teeth as he tried to think.  Why couldn’t he remember anything?  What the hell was wrong with him?  Hot tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Dad?”

-Beep-

-Beep-

“The num—.”

 

When Jake wasn’t around, Dirk got dressed and sat up at his desk, working.  He only had access to paper, pens, and other office supplies, so mostly what he did was draw.  There were a few ironically shitty sketches tacked to the walls of the room, but Dirk only drew those when he was bored and lacking inspiration.  The rest of the time he drew machine schematics, and some of them were definitely continuations of projects he’d started while still alive.  He hoped someday to find the materials to actually build some of his designs, but for now he was just happy to have Jake.

Late morning, Jake returned to the room.  He tried to be discrete about it, but Dirk noticed his absences, and the fact that he’d return either covered in sweat or freshly showered.  Dirk didn’t ask about it, though, just like he didn’t expect Jake to try and pry into every detail of his own past.  Jake jumped a bit at seeing Dirk awake, but played off the whole thing like he’d stepped out to use the bathroom.  Whatever, Jake.

Jake, for his part, amused himself with movies he checked out from the library.  They became background noise to Dirk that was soothing, the reminder of another person not too far away who cared enough to give him his space when he needed it.  Today was no different, and Jake settled into the corner to watch the entire boxed DVD set of Hannah Montana on his laptop.

A few episodes in, Dirk put his pencil down.  It was, to Jake’s eye, the equivalent of clearing his throat.

“What’s up, pal?” he asked, pausing the episode.

“Something I’ve been considering for a while.  Do you believe in a god?” Dirk was now turning toward Jake, eyes hidden behind his customary shades.

“Well, I’ve certainly got nothing against other people believing in whatever cockamamie they feel like.”

“Okay, points for tolerance,” Dirk quipped.  “But do you personally, as in you, Jake English, and not some hypothetical second person construct, think there is one?”

“Well, I dunno,” Jake shrugged.  “What’s got your garters in a twist over it?”

“What if there is a god,” Dirk said, folding his arms and rubbing his thumb against his bicep.  It was his most visible nervous tic.  “Not necessarily any sort of universal creator, but just some sort of divine power that oversaw things on Earth.  That would mean they would have been the ones to send us here to this plane, for whatever reason you think that might be for the purposes of this scenario.  Punishment, redemption, whatever.”

“That sounds reasonable enough to me,” Jake said.

“Alright, assuming that such a being exists,” Dirk went on.  “That would mean everything that ever happened to you was because this guy let it happen, or even made it happen.  He dances you through your life, and when you die he tosses you into an idyllic but ultimately shallow and meaningless dungeon dimension where you spend the rest of eternity reliving the most awkward stage of your development.”

“Well, if there is a god, he sounds a right cad!” Jake frowned.  “But so what?  It’s not as if we’re being extended invitations by angels to dinner with the gods.  What could we even do about it?”

“That’s what I’m not sure about,” Dirk said.  “If there is a god, how would we know?  And furthermore, how would we establish contact?  And even, having settled the first and second, what would we do once we met him?”

“That’s quite the pickle,” Jake agreed.  “But I admit I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea where to start.”

Dirk nodded, frowning and staring off into space.  Jake shrugged and resumed his show.

“Anyway, mate, what’s god going to do to us now?  We can’t die,” Jake settled in more comfortably into his corner.  “We’ve got all eternity together.  That sounds like a fine deal to me.”

Dirk smiled, called Jake a sap, and went back to his drawing.

 

John sat staring at the desk in front of him.  They’d forced the office door open to find him sitting next to the phone, which was off the hook and beeping annoyingly.  He’d been given detention, and hadn’t protested as the teachers led him to the classroom where he’d serve out his sentence.

The door opened again, and a few more students were led in.  It was, John noted, the tri-fecta he’d pranked that morning to devastating effect.

“You!”

Jade, face red with fury, swept over and slammed her hands down on John’s desk.  He barely flinched.

“I swear to god, John, if we weren’t in detention right now I’d kick your ass up and down the hill twice!”

Rose fumed silently, but did not speak to John, simply settling herself near the door and diving back into her knitting with murderous abandon.  John noted she was wearing the black sweater Roxy had modified and finished.  He almost laughed.

Dave, for his part, stood there and watched Jade continue to yell at him, finally stalking over to tap her out once she was running out of breath.  He regarded John, and it was tough to say if it was with anger, contempt, or just indifference.

“Well?” Dave asked.  “Are we even now?”

John laughed ruefully.

“Yeah, we’re even.”

Dave nodded.

“Good.  All that dancing around sniping was starting to get old.”

“I just…” John started.  Dave sat down on the desk in front of John’s, feet propped up like he didn’t care either way if John continued talking.  “Nobody picked up.”

“What?”

“On the phone,” John said.  “I called so many numbers, and none of them answered.  Wouldn’t you think that there’d be at least one person out there?”

“You mean, the principle’s office phone?” Dave asked.  It sounded just as dumb in his head, as well.

“What other phones are there around here?” John snarked.  “I thought it was like some kind of secure line from the principle to whoever runs this place, but it was just useless.”

“It’s like we keep telling you,” Dave said.  “There’s no one out there.  It’s just us.”

John nodded reluctantly.

“Fuck.  I guess so.”


	4. Trust

Dave sighed through his nose while John fidgeted at his desk.  The detention room was quiet, still, even though a teacher hadn’t yet showed up to supervise them.  He crossed his arms and tapped his elbow.

“Okay, but seriously John, what the hell did you do to my laptop?”

 

The next day during Rose’s free period, the four of them met at the top of the stairs outside the classroom building.  Rose still, John noticed, wore the sweater, and he couldn’t keep a snicker from slipping out, which Rose responded to with a smile that John didn’t like the look of.  Dave showed up with Jade in tow, backpack slung over one shoulder, aviators well in place.  Jade also had her bag, and carried a rifle.

“What’s that for?” John asked her.

“Just in case,” she said, hefting it.  “Oh, and by the way?  No hard feelings about the pumpkins yesterday.  It was a really funny prank!”

“Oh, cool,” John said.  Jade held out a hand, which John shook with a small smile.  Jade immediately pushed him backwards and sent him tumbling down the stairs with a kick to the stomach.

“Just kidding, fuckass!  I was up all night cleaning permanent ink off my pumpkins!”

John cracked his head a few times, the world spinning, before coming to an agonizing stop about two thirds of the way down the stairs.  Mercifully he blacked out in short order.

 

John came to in the nurse’s office with a start and immediately regretted it.

“Ow…” he said, clutching his throbbing skull.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

Rose was sitting next to the bed knitting something large and blue.  John thought it looked a bit like a blanket, but then what did he know about knitting?  Zero, that’s what.  John noted that he was still in his school uniform, and resolved at some point in the future to ask Roxy how she’d managed to find non-school clothes to wear.

“How are you feeling?” Rose asked without looking up from her work.

“My head hurts,” John replied.  “Why is it that every time I’m with you guys one of you tries to kill me?”

“Well, to be fair, you did commit the one unforgivable faux pas of touching Jade’s pumpkins without her permission,” Rose said.  “If it makes you feel any better, she drowned Dave by shoving him off the bridge the first and only time he poked fun at her gardening hobby.”

“Fantastic.  It’s good to know she’s still completely batshit crazy,” John said rolling his eyes.

“Speaking of Dave, what _did_ you do to his computer?  He keeps opening it and shutting it while making little sobbing noises whenever he thinks nobody’s paying attention.”

John laughed a little derisively.

“Oh man, that was sweet,” he said.

“What was?” Rose pressed, but John shook his head.

“A prankster doesn’t reveal his secrets,” he explained.

“I see,” Rose pursed her lips.  “Well, in any case, when you’re up for it, we’ll head out to meet this friend of yours up the mountain.  Jade probably won’t try to kill you again.”

John gave her a worried look while she finished off the last few lines of stitching.  He was reconsidering this plan a lot, but not to the extent that he wasn’t going to go through with it anyway.  He threw the covers off and stood up, casting about for his shoes.  Rose toed them toward him from where she sat, and soon they were back outside on the terrace.  Dave and Jade were nowhere to be seen.

“They’ll be waiting for us by the bridge,” Rose said.  “I suspect they will have things set up so that we find them in a mildly scandalous position, so we may take as much time as we like.”

“Huh?” John asked perplexed.

“They are, what we call, ‘dating’,” Rose said.

“Okay?” John replied.  “I guess that’s cool, but what do you mean ‘scandalous position’?”

“Oh, but why would I spoil the fun for them?  You’ll just have to see for yourself.  Oh, and by the way, I made this for you,” Rose stopped at the top of the stairs to take the blue blanket thing out of her knitting bag.  “Consider this a peace offering.  I won’t pretend I wasn’t irked by your clever sabotage, but let’s let bygones be bygones.”

“Oh, thank you,” John said.  “What is it?”

“It’s a sweater,” Rose flared it out for him to see.  It was blue with a sky blue cloud insignia on the chest, and little chasing clouds around the hems.

“Wow,” John said.  “You’re really good at that!  Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem at all,” Rose beamed.  She then forced the sweater over John’s head so that his arms were trapped, and with a precise boot to the chest sent him falling down the stairs.

“Ow!  Fuck!  Shit!  Piss!” John yelled, each word punctuated by his head knocking against stone as the world spun and his eyes watered from trying not to throw up from dizziness or possibly it was just his head splitting open again.  He lay on a smooth landing and dribbled a bit before passing out.

 

John came to in the nurse’s office with a sense of déjà vu.  He sat up rather slowly this time, and took stock of his surroundings.  Neither Rose nor Jade were present, which was good as far as John was concerned.  Dave, however, leaned against the doorjamb like he had the previous time.  
“sup,” he said.

“Ugh!” John cried, clapping his hands to his head.  “I don’t want to deal with this!  Just kill me already so I can move on with my death.”

“Nah,” Dave said, shrugging.  “I’ll leave the revenge killing up to Rose and Jade.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.  You’ve already killed me twice!”

“Fair point,” Dave said mildly.  “Although if you’ll notice, the first time I did it was to prove a pretty crucial point about this place, and the second time was because you tried to shoot me with a gun.”

John did have to acknowledge that one.  He looked down and saw he was still wearing Rose’s sweater, arms properly in the sleeves this time, and also that it was stained with blood around the shoulders and neck.  He ripped it off and tossed it in the corner.

“You know, she’ll probably just knit you another one if she finds out you got rid of it,” Dave pointed out.

“Oh god, really?” John asked in panic.

“Yep.”

“Bluuuuh!  Why are you all so insane?” John flopped back down on the bed in despair.  “I should just go live with Roxy in the lab.  At least she isn’t actively out to get me.”

“Speaking of which,” Dave said, coming into the room properly.  “I got some questions I’d like to ask her.  You think we could hurry this pity party along?  I’m chomping at the bit for some adventuring.”

Dave’s tone had remained carefully neutral the entire time.  John was beginning to think Dave didn’t have real emotions.

“No, fuck that,” John said.  “I’m not going near either Rose or Jade.  Dying sucks!”

“Agreed,” Dave replied.  “About the dying part, that is.”

“Also what makes you think I’m going to introduce you to Roxy?  You’re just as bad as the others.”

Dave shrugged.

“I told you before, it’s the same to me if you mistrust us or don’t.  But you’re not going to be able to get rid of us, and at least as far as I’m concerned we’re even, so it doesn’t really make sense that you wouldn’t try to bury whatever hatchets you still have.  Admittedly, Rose can hold grudges like the worst of them.”

John still didn't look convinced, so Dave sighed and held out his hand, pinky finger extended.

“Look, I pinky swear that if you take me to see Roxy, I will not try to kill you.  The thought of killing you won’t even cross my mind.  Between you and me will be a no-kill zone, as inviolable as our rights to death, misery, and the aspiration to be chill motherfuckers.”

John stared at Dave.

“Seriously, dude?” he asked, eyebrow raised.  Dave merely continued proffering his pinky until John rolled his eyes and locked his own pinky with it.  They shook once, and the promise was sealed.

“So then,” Dave asked.  “How we gonna do this?”

“Well, I don’t know if I should show you this,” John replied, glancing furtively at the painting.  “But it’d be kind of hard not to eventually, so.”

He got up and walked over to the picture, and lifted the frame so Dave could see the fenestrated pane beneath it.

“Oh, yeah, that was up there with things I was gonna ask,” Dave said, regarding the device.  The view was of the ceiling of Roxy’s room, which was good news.

“Now don’t freak out,” John said, unlatching the pane. 

“You don't know me, son, but I am the master of cool,” Dave shot back.  “What am I in for, here?”

“It’s hard to explain.  You’d better just see for yourself.”

John opened the window, revealing the black expanse of the void behind it.  Dave stuck his head in and looked around.

“Cool,” he said, climbing in.

“It kind of is, isn’t it?”

“Endless field of darkness surrounding the world?  Hell yeah it’s cool.” Dave’s voice was muffled by the stillness.  “So what’s the deal here, are we walking somewhere?  Is it toward that light up there?  I bet it is, there’s fuck all else out here.”

“Boy, you just go on and on, don’t you,” John said sardonically, climbing in after and closing the window.

“It has been mentioned to me about my liberally vociferous habitation.”

“Right.”

John looked up, gauging the distance.

“So we can just jump up to it and we’ll get there in no time.”

“Sweet.”

Dave bent down and sprung up toward the distant window before John could say anything more.  He sailed up rapidly, and vanished into the light while John stood there impassively.  He shrugged, and followed suit.

 

John flew through the fenestrated pane and wiped out on Roxy’s bed, which was fortunate in the respect that he didn’t injure himself but less fortunate in the respect that he came out in the middle of a standoff.  Roxy and Dave faced each other off, guns versus sword in the middle of the room.  John sat up.

“Woah guys, what are you doing?”

“This dude just busts into my room w/o invitation!” Roxy said.  “Things got tense real fast, yo.  He came out muttering and then he gets that sword out of fuckin’ nowhere.”

Dave for his part didn’t say anything, merely watched Roxy warily.

“Dave’s here because I brought him here,” John said.  “So just, put the guns down.  Dave, put the sword away.  I thought we were going to be civil about this.”

Dave waited for a second, and then his sword vanished in a flash of pixels.  John’s mouth fell open.  Roxy narrowed her eyes and didn’t put her guns down.

“Where’d you learn to do that trick?” she asked.

Dave pulled his laptop out of his backpack, slowly so Roxy wouldn’t get jumpy and trigger-happy.  It had a black and orange-gradient case with a few stickers on it, and Dave held it like it was a newborn infant.  He approached Roxy and held it out to her.

“Please fix it?” he asked.

Roxy snorted, and then put her guns down.

“Sure,” she said, taking the laptop.  “Make sure he doesn’t break anything while I get my leet haxorz on, ‘kay John?”

Dave put his hands in his pockets and looked around the room.

“This is a lotta cool stuff,” he said with an approving nod at the multiple game systems and the preserved dead mutant cats.  “Where’d you get it all?”

There was an ear-splitting sound from Dave’s laptop.  John clapped his hands to his ears, while Dave flinched, hissing.  They both looked at Roxy, who had the good grace to look apologetic through her amused chuckles.

“Sorry!” she said.  “Undoin’ the master’s work’s not an easy job.”

“What did you actually do, though?” John asked.  “You didn’t tell me, you just kept snickering to yourself and saying things like, ‘oh this is gunna be gud’.”

Dave was beginning to look agitated by this discussion.

“Dude, chill,” Roxy said, eyeing him.  “I didn’t do much.  Just installed a couple homebrews to make your user experience as hellish as possible.”

“For example, the pop song?” Dave inquired, teeth gritted.

“LOL, yeah, John tole me you were some hotshot DJ, so I added that just for you,” she winked.  “Makes it more personal, don’t you think?”

“And my hard drive?”

“It’s fine,” Roxy waved him off.  “I’m not _that_ much of a hacker tool.”

She typed in a couple more lines, and hit the send key with a flourish.

“Now that’s done,” she said, closing the laptop and holding it up so Dave couldn’t reach it.  “How’s about you start telling me about that sword trick o’yours?”

“It’s better if I show you,” Dave returned.  “Gimme the laptop.”

“Why?”

“So I can show you, duh.”

“Whatchoo need the laptop for?”

Dave didn’t reply, simply held his hand out and waited for Roxy to finally break and give him back his machine.  He sat down and opened it back up, searching through his directory (holy shit how does anyone navigate this, was John’s thought as he looked over Dave’s shoulder).  He found an application named AlchemiTool and opened it.

“Woah!” Roxy said, shoving Dave aside and taking the laptop.  “This is awesome!”

There were a couple of menus and a few male wire frames doing various things, such as vanishing from one spot and fading rapidly to another, or going into some sort of bullet time mode.  One of the wire frames could pull a sword out of the air and send it back at will.  John saw an editor tab, presumably for making more skills like these.

“Some explanation is in order, I think,” Dave said, sitting back up and taking his laptop again.  “I didn’t make that program, I found it while dicking around on the school’s intranet.  It’s actually pretty weird the shit you can find there, it’s like no one in IT does any housekeeping, so there’s stuff piled up from way far back like I don’t even know.  Anyway, saw this and decided it looked pretty cool, so I ripped it and now I’ve got sweet powers like you saw.”

Roxy nodded.

“Schweet.  The name kinda reminds me of this big ass machine down in Manufactory I found while I was casing this joint.  Think it’s called an Alchemitizer?  Something like that.  Anyway, it’s how I was able to make all those guns I showed you, John.”

Dave stuffed his laptop back into his backpack.

“Wait, how does AlchemiTool work?” John asked.

Dave shrugged.  Roxy for her part didn’t seem able to shed any more light on the subject.

“Maybe this reality really is a high school dating sim,” she said.  “Anyway, who’s up for Problem Sleuth?”

“Fucking A,” Dave said, high-fiving Roxy.  “PSleuth’s the man.”

“Rock,” Roxy said, returning the high-five and going to set up the game.  “And it’s multiplayer, so we can get our co-op on!”

“I like this chick,” Dave said to John.

“Yeah, she’s pretty amazing,” John agreed, taking a seat next to Dave while Roxy passed out controllers.

“Yes, please, lather on the praise,” Roxy smirked.  “It’s good for my rosy complexion.”

They argued for the next five minutes over character selection, until John’s controller got unplugged and he was forced to be Ace Dick.  Whatever, he would truffle shuffle his way to victory, so help him.

 

Roxy had passed out a while ago, leaving John and Dave reign of her consoles.  Dave rooted around in her collection and pulled out Street Fighter IV, which John found he was surprisingly good at.  Nevertheless, something was nagging him.

“So where did you find that program?”

“Which one?  AlchemiTool?  I told you, off some site on the intranet.”

“And that’s how you got your sword thing?”

“Dude, it’s perfectly simple,” Dave said, pausing the game mid dragon kick.  “Being that we’re dead, shit doesn’t work the same as it did in real life.  So if I find a piece of software that lets me outrun a speeding train or some shit, I’m gonna accept that’s the way it is.  If you want answers, go talk to Rose, or better still, do your own digging.”

“What came into your house and pissed on the rug?” John asked, eyebrow raised.

“Forget it,” Dave said.  “I’m probably gonna head back and re-establish my domain.  Thank you, by the way, for ousting me so thoroughly.”

John snickered.

“Whatever, dude.  You’re still crazy,” he said as Dave opened the fenestrated pane.  “But I guess that’s alright.”

“Damn straight it is,” he said.

“I dunno, it just seemed like something you should’ve mentioned.”

“Like I’m gonna spill my secrets to the kid with no memories,” Dave shot back.

John frowned.

“That’s low.”

“Yeah, well, if you forgot it once, you might forget it again, so why bother?” Dave shrugged.

“What’d I forget?” John was startled.

“I dunno.  Probably a lot of important shit you’ll need to work through.  Anyway, I’m out.  See you around.”

Dave hopped into the fenestrated pane, and was gone.  John considered following him and demanding an explanation all, _What do you know, Dave?  Tell me what you know!_   But he’d probably just piss him off, and then he might get stabbed again.  Eventually he got tired of Street Fighter and went back to Bard Quest.  He would slay that goddamn dragon tonight or not at all.

 

Jake woke up from an afternoon snooze to the sound of the door shutting.  Dirk was wearing his backpack and school uniform, which looked odd on him for one so used to seeing him in more casual attire.  In one hand he holds a bag of Cheetos.

“Dirk, mate, where’ve you been?” Jake asks sleepily.

“We were out of snacks,” Dirk said simply, shrugging off the backpack and unzipping it to reveal its contents: a treasure trove of cheesy, corn-based junk food.  Jake sighed internally—he couldn’t survive on chips alone!—but he wasn’t about to pass up food, especially when his stomach suddenly growled menacingly.

“Whoops!  Soup’s on, I suppose,” he said, taking out a packet of Bugles.  Dirk favored the jalapeno Doritos, and while it wasn’t entirely satisfying Jake was full soon enough.

“While I was outside today, I met an interesting girl by the vending machines,” Dirk said.  Jake felt his stomach clench.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s in our year, I think, maybe even on the student council, judging by her modified uniform.  She had this inquisitive air about her, like she thought she was some kind of detective or investigative journalist.”

“Great!  That’s grand,” Jake was trying not to laugh nervously.  He wasn't succeeding very well, because Dirk turned to him and gave him one of those _looks_. 

“Jake,” he said.  “As much as I love spending time shut up in this room with you, it isn’t a bad thing to get out every once in a while.  You know, get some fresh air, meet some new people.”

“That’s a funny way of putting it,” Jake objected.  “And I do go out!  I frequently beat the trail between here and the library.”

“I guess,” Dirk said between chips.  “So what are the librarians’ names?”

“Eh?”

“You don't know, do you.”

“Of course I know!  They’re, ah, Tom, Dick and Harry,” Jake said, nodding to show that he’d settled the issue, and nothing more needed to be said about it.

“Right,” Dirk smirked before popping another chip into his mouth.  “In any case, I told her about you and she said she might be amenable to meeting us for lunch in the cafeteria.”

“What?!  I’m not sure about that, mate…”

“Goddamn it, Jake, it’s just a lunch date.”

“But-but…I don’t even know her!  What if I make a right ass of myself?”

“Then it’ll be pretty much like usual,” Dirk said, and Jake knew him well enough that he could figure out when he was rolling his eyes.  Dirk put the chips aside and stood up, stretching his arms.  Jake stuffed more Bugles into his mouth to prevent himself from whistling in appreciation.  “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, dude.”

Dirk stepped forward until he had cornered Jake on the bed, and then took the bag of Bugles away while Jake quickly sucked the cheese off his fingers.

“Even if she hates you, you’re still the hottest piece of ass this side of death,” Dirk smirked, settling down so he was straddling Jake’s lap while the other simply looked on.  Finally he got it, and brought his hands up to Dirk’s waist.  Dirk leaned down and kissed him, ending that conversation

 

Rose was leaning against the fence on the roof of the class building, book out and reading by the light of the rooftop flood lamp.  It wasn’t the best light, but she was half-way through a chapter already.  Jade sat nearby listening to music through a pair of headphones that also had little upright dog ears attached to the band.  She bobbed her head to the beats, occasionally humming along with the tune.  The door to the roof opened, and Dave emerged, nodding to each of them before taking up a spot next to Jade and pulling out his laptop.

“Where did you and John disappear off to?” Rose asked.  “We were waiting for the longest time.”

“John took me to see that sassy blonde friend of his,” Dave replied.

“What?” Jade asked, pulling her headphones off so she could hear.  “I thought he was going to bring us with him?”

“Yeah, well your little revenge kills today pretty much squashed any chance he’d have of trusting either of you,” Dave said, opening up AlchemiTool.  “He was barely willing to take me along as it was, and that was only because I made a solemn vow I wouldn’t pull any shit with him or Roxy.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Jade said, deflating to the ground.  “Maaaan, why does John have to take death so personally?”

“It’s not that surprising, I suppose,” Rose said reasonably.  “He’s still relatively new here, and so death still carries the weight of malice or fear.  Give him time, Jade.  As you suggested earlier, we just have to not push him.”

“You both literally pushed him down a flight of stairs,” Dave pointed out.  “Your commitment to this strategy is questionable.”

Jade and Rose both lapsed into embarrassed silence.

“You think we should apologize?” Jade asked Rose.

“Oh my god, you’re not even getting it,” Dave said, looking up from his laptop, a note of exasperation creeping into his tone.  “John was terrified of the idea of even seeing you two face to face.  Rose, do him a favor and explicitly _don’t_ make an apology present because even if you go to all the effort, good luck ever catching him long enough to give it to him.  And Jade, I know your pumpkins are more sacred than the McDonald’s toy in the happy meal, but we were all banking on the fact that thus far you were the one that _hadn’t_ sent him to meet his maker that might’ve stood a good chance of not inspiring him to quake in fear.  You were our mascot, Jade, and then you went crazy and shoved the cheerleading squad under a bus.  Good going, both of you.”

Jade and Rose both looked at him surprised.  It was probably the most emotion he’d ever injected into his voice they’d ever heard, but Dave was a bit tired of their shit and didn’t care.  For reasonably intelligent people, they sure could be idiots.

“Shoot,” Jade said, deflating again.

“Indeed,” Rose said ruefully.  “Well, no use dwelling on it now.  What did you learn about Roxy?”

“She doesn’t have any more idea about who’s calling the shots around here than we do,” Dave said.  “But maybe I can get her to show me around that bitchin’ lab of hers.  She’s also got these weird windows that open up into a black void.”

“Really?” Rose looked up from her book.

Dave nodded.

“Interesting,” she said.

“Yep, and she could put these windows anywhere, and they’d still go the same place.”

“Did she show you these?”

“Nah, John did that,” Dave said.  “cuz he didn’t want to risk walking past you two.  But unless Roxy moves it, I know where one is that’ll go right into her room.”

“Hm,” Rose tapped her chin, retreating into her own thoughts.  “That does open up a few possibilities.  And it also explains a few things about Prank Day.”

“That’s what we’re calling it now,” Jade added from her position face down on the floor.

“Even so, the existence of this void calls a few things into question.  I’ll have to think about this,” Rose said.

“Suit yourself,” Dave said dismissively, going back to his laptop.  Jade rolled over and managed to worm her way onto his lap, humming contentedly as he absently scratched her head. 


	5. She's Not Human!

Rose sat back and contemplated the classroom before her, troubled.  The student council met in a rarely used space in the secondary class building once a week to discuss things like campus-wide events, curfews, and disciplinary policy, among other things.  It was usual to get one or two representatives talking about rule infractions, and they were never anything serious.  Nevertheless, the conversation had taken a tone that Rose found disquieting.

“School wide flouting of authority has become rampant.  By gum, if we don’t do something about it we’ll have another vandalism incident on our hands!”

Afterwards, Rose shut the classroom door behind her and set off walking to the cafeteria.  She ate her lunch in silence, contemplating a large poster that had been put up on the wall the night before, bright bold red, white, and powder blue.  Jade and Dave found her like this a half an hour later, both carrying trays stacked high with food.

“sup Rose,” Dave nodded, sitting down across from her and blocking her view.

“Hi!” Jade said, taking the seat next to her.

“I wonder if I could put a scenario to the two of you,” Rose spoke almost absently.  It was a calculated nonchalance that the others recognized at once. 

“Okay, sure,” Jade said, biting into an apple.  Dave said nothing, poking at his pasta with his fork like it might come alive and throttle him.

“Let’s suppose, for a moment,” Rose began, pushing her own tray away and folding her hands on the table before her.  “That you were dead.”

Jade giggled.

“I gotta admit I’m having trouble with that one,” Dave snarked.

“Let’s further suppose,” Rose talked over him.  “That the afterlife was someplace peaceful, utopian almost.  Now, let’s go one step further and suggest that, for all its perfection, paradise still has rules, and power structures, and institutions to enforce them, despite how smoke-and-mirrors these may at first appear.”

“Sounds awful familiar,” Dave interjected.  “You sure this hypothetical’s fantastic enough?  You know I ain’t good with real life situations, Lalonde.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she quipped.  “But here’s where things take a departure for the surreal.  Despite all of this that I just mentioned, there are a few inmates in paradise who act out, buck the system.  Stick it to the man, if you will.”

“I most certainly will not,” Dave replied, scandalized.

“What would you do in this situation, if you were an agent of that system?”

Jade contemplated the problem, chewing thoughtfully.  She shrugged after a few minutes and dug into a hunk of lasagna.  Dave, for his part, continued to say nothing.

“I dunno,” Jade said finally, swallowing a ribbon-like noodle.  “I guess I’d find who was breaking the rules and punish them somehow.  That’s what people do to rulebreakers, right?”

“But your system has no mechanism for punishing such individuals.”

“Okay,” Jade said.  “Then I’d just make some.”

Rose nodded.

“That’s what I feared.”

“What’s this about, anyway?” Jade asked, raising an eyebrow at her.  Rose nodded to the poster, a larger-than-life headshot of a member of the student council with the legend: _Vote Jane Crocker For Student Council President_

 

Jade and Dave hung out later in an empty music hall in the lower levels of the arts center.  Dave messed around with the soundboard while Jade bobbed her head to whatever fresh jams she had queued up on her music player.  While she did so, she typed away at her laptop, some complicated science project that was her only concession to schoolwork—honest!—that Dave wouldn’t have known the first thing about.  Dave got his equipment set up and hooked into the speakers.  Rolling bass shook dust off the light grid overhead, and caused Jade to pause her jams.

“Oh man, is this that new mix you were working on?”

“Sure is,” Dave said, adjusting the levels.

Jade grinned, and got up to dance.  Dave watched her as she rollicked about the music hall, no style whatsoever, but a kind of earnest grace that was just so Jade.  He smirked, and cranked the bass further.

An hour later, Jade had collapsed in a happy tired heap next to Dave’s chair.  The mix kept playing, but had transitioned into a more mellow harmony.  Jade tugged at his pants, getting his attention.  He pulled his earphones down and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, girl?”

“Nothing,” she smiled, pressing her hands to her face.  “It’s just nice we get to hang out like this.”

“Rock.”

He went back to his music, while Jade just basked in his company for a moment or two longer.  Then she spoke again.

“Wish we hadn’t messed things up with John.”

Dave paused what he was doing, and then shrugged.  Jade noticed, though.  She didn’t spend this much time with the aloof coolkid and not pick up a few things.

“Hey, Dave,” she said.  “You’ve been kind of different since we met John, you know?”

Dave didn’t say anything, but he did quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Well, for starters you actually agreed to do something Rose asked you to do, which is practically unheard of,” Jade said, watching Dave roll his eyes behind his shades.  “And then you stuck up for him on the roof the other night.  Did you know him…you know, before?”

Dave shrugged again.  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Alright,” Jade said, deflating a little.  “But, you know, whenever you want to, you can talk to me.  About that stuff.”

Dave didn’t reply, and Jade curled up a little, bringing her knees to her chin.  Dave reached over after a moment and scratched the top of her head.

“Like,” Dave said, turning down the mains so she could hear him better.  “It’s not that I don’t trust you.  You’re all kinds of awesome, and I’m like the lottery winner for having met you, even if we did both had to die first.”

Jade punches his leg lightly, smiling dopily under his ministrations.

“D’aw, you really do have feelings,” she said.

“The jury will disregard any and all suggestions to that effect,” Dave sniped back, but there was no venom in his tone.

“If, maybe, I tell you my story, you’ll share yours?” Jade asked.  “I talked with Rose some about it, and she said that it’s easier if you have someone to share with.”

“No,” Dave said almost immediately.  “I’m not gonna pressure you like that.  If you wanna talk, I’m all ears, but not as some kind of fucked up Lalondian therapy tool.  That is my one condition, okay, non-negotiable, that we do not turn this into the afterlife’s lamest pity party.”

“But Dave, what if I _want_ to talk about it?” Jade asked.

“Then talk, I already said I’d listen.”

“Okay, yeah, you’d listen, but maybe I don’t want you just to listen.  Maybe I was hoping you’d open up to me a little more.  I mean, we’re dating, right?  I don’t like thinking that you’re just holding me at arm’s length while I’m over here spilling my guts out.”

“Hey, make room for Jesus, right?” Dave snarked.  Jade really did punch him that time.  “Ow!  Geez, Jade, what was that for?”

“I’m trying to be serious here, coolguy,” she said. 

“I can see that.”

“Then can you please lay off the jokes for five minutes?”

“Can’t, doctor’s orders, I’ll die choking on the gravity of a situation too heavy.”

“Oh my god, Dave!  Shut up!”

Dave buttons up, and Jade can see she’s not going to get anywhere.  Frustrated, she grabs up her backpack and storms out.  It wasn’t the most mature thing she could’ve done, but, goddamn it, she was trying!  Had been trying!  What would it take for Dave Motherfucking Strider to just…she didn’t even know.

She kicked a loose pebble down the sidewalk as she walked to her dorm, feeling just put out by the whole thing.  She liked Dave a lot!  She really did!  And she wanted to help him so much!  But she just couldn't if he wouldn’t let her.

 

Jake tossed and turned, fitfully _not!_ dreaming in his sleep.  It was something that happened a lot since he arrived at this peculiar place, and one of the reasons (although he’d never, ever admit it) he was glad of Dirk’s presence.  He would wake up, and just hold on to the blonde until his unease subsided.  Dirk never minded, and never asked.  That was also a relief.

The place Jake went in his sleep was difficult to describe precisely, aside from ‘absolutely friggin’ nowhere’.  An endless black expanse, airless (but he didn’t need to breathe), lifeless (he wasn’t even alive), and somehow foreboding.  Jake would hear his name called, as if someone was whispering to him from across an empty room.  Sometimes he would hear other things, and none of them sounded nice or friendly.  And he’d walk, because what else could he do?, and end up right back where he started.  He didn’t know how he knew this, but it was nevertheless true. 

That morning Jake awoke from another unlit ramble through the dark to find Dirk was already gone.  For a moment he panicked, throwing aside the covers and quickly standing, but a glance at the desk revealed the nature of his companion’s absence.

_Jake,_

_Science building.  Meet you for lunch._

_Dirk_

Jake collapsed back against the bed, heaving the deep sigh.  He decided some fresh air would do him good, and got dressed, fully intent to walk in nature until he stopped feeling so damn weird.  Maybe, if he found one, he could box a bear.  That’d cheer him right up.

 

Rose stood calmly before the assembly hall, along with several other members of the student council, various sports teams, and school clubs.  Morning sun illuminated the podium as she took her place by it, waiting until it was her turn to speak.  The students arrayed before here looked on, faces cast in shadow.  It was, Rose thought, as if they had no eyes to see with.

“It is with great humility that I announce my candidacy for student council president,” she said.  She started into a prepared speech about gentle guardianship and self-determination, ignoring the feeling of a pair of eyes burning holes in the back of her coat.  When she concluded, she bowed to the other candidates and took her place in line, meeting only briefly the be-spectacled gaze of her true opponent.  She smirked and raised an eyebrow at her.

_It.  Is.  On._

 

Jake took extra care dressing himself when it came time for him to leave the safety of his movie den (all the blankets wrapped around himself and his laptop).  He didn’t want Dirk to think he was entirely hopeless when it came to social contact—only mostly hopeless.  Mostly hopeless was completely acceptable.  It suggested inexperience!  Room for improvement!  That his natural aversion to crowds might be solved with some good ol’ elbow grease, maybe a montage accompanied by an eighties power ballad.

He adjusted the collar on his school uniform for the fifth time, took a deep breath, and stepped outside.

“Right, English, you can do this,” he said, striding purposefully to the cafeteria.

When he started hitting the lunch rush, his instinct was to run and hide until the threat passed, but most people turned out to be either completely uninterested in him, or offered him a friendly smile he was more than happy to return, if somewhat hesitant about the whole thing.  He climbed the steps to the terrace and fell in place in one of the lines.

“Look alive, Jake.”

Jake jumped, but found it was only Dirk, looking very handsome in uniform, hands in his pockets and smirking just so, the arrogant cad.  Next to him was a pretty girl with short black hair, glasses, and an overbite to rival his own.  Her uniform was spotlessly put together, although Jake noticed she disdained the black stockings for white and blue knee socks.

“Oh, hello, old chum,” Jake said, a little nervous.  “This must be the charming lady you mentioned the other day.”

Dirk nodded while the girl smiled, cheeks dusting a little pink (or maybe that was just Jake imagining things).

“Jake, Jane,” Dirk said.  “Jane, this is my boy, Jake.”

“Very pleased to meet you,” Jane said, holding out her hand, which Jake shook.  Jake noticed the badge on her lapel at that moment.

“Ah, you must be on the student council, I see,” He said.

“Very observant,” Jane said, beaming.  “So, mind if we cut in line?”

“Not at all!” Jake said, offering them the space in front of him, much to the annoyance of the students behind him.  Dirk and Jane had quite a rapport going, he noticed, as they filed inside and got trays laden with delicious-smelling morsels.  Jake suddenly questioned the wisdom of relying on snack food for sustenance.  They took up seats at a table in the middle of the place, surrounded by chattering diners.  Jake rarely interjected into the conversation, more interested in observing the other students.

“I say, Jane,” he said, pointing to the wall.  “That wouldn’t be you on that poster over there, would it?”

“Yes, Jake,” she said, patiently.  He suddenly felt they’d had that part of the conversation already and he’d missed it.  “And I’ll need all the votes I can get.  The competition is pretty stiff out there.”

“That so,” Dirk said, sipping an orange soda.  Jane nodded.

“I’m not so worried about the sports teams or club leaders.  They’ve all got their niche, and that’s it,” she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.  “It’s the other member of the council that’s running.”

“Who is it?” Jake asked.

“Her name’s Lalonde,” Jane said, nodded over to a table in the far corner.  Jake looked, and saw a blonde girl with a lavender backpack getting up to leave.  Her compatriots were quite singular in their own ways—the dark haired girl wore the wrong uniform, and the boy with the aviators eschewed the blazer, among other peculiarities Jake could’ve noted—but she seemed to walk with a confidence and command Jake found intimidating.  She glanced in their direction, and he averted his eyes.  Jane was watching him.

“She’s…quite something,” he said, lamely.

“She wasn’t originally in the running,” Jane said, leaning in close.  “Not until after most of the candidates were chosen.  And she seems to know the ins and outs of the student council better than most.  I suspect she’s more than she would at first appear.”

She gave both Dirk and Jake a significant look.  Dirk glanced at Jake, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t quite take your meaning,” Jake said apologetically.  Jane almost slapped her forehead.

“I mean she’s not _human_ ,” she said in hushed exasperation.  “You know, like you and I are human, but most of the students aren’t.”

“What makes you think she isn’t?” Dirk asked, arms folded.

“I can’t prove it for certain,” Jane said.  “But I’ve compiled some evidence that would suggest she is of a wholly separate caliber to the rest of the student body.  Call it intuition if you must, but she is trouble.”

Jake nodded while Dirk said nothing.  Jane in the meantime brooded over her food for a moment longer before sighing.  She became a tad bit more cheerful then after.

“So Jake, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?  You’ve been so quiet,” she said.

 

Later on, Jake and Dirk walk back to their dorm.  Dirk had his hands in his pockets while Jake swung his arms, surreptitiously trying to catch Dirk by the wrist.  It didn’t work, and made Jake feel a little silly, but after a couple of bumps, Dirk finally got the message and shifted to be a bit closer.  Jake didn’t expect him to place a hand on his ass and squeeze, however.  He jumped, squeaking in alarm.

“Dirk!  We’re in public!”

“Ain’t nobody around to watch us,” he said, leaning in to whisper in Jake’s ear.  “We don’t even have to wait to get back to the dorm, Nature Boy.”

“If you continue calling me that, I’m leaving you,” Jake threatened.  Dirk stepped back, eyebrows up in shock.  “I mean.  Mate, I didn’t actually mean…”

“Nah, just fuckin’ with you,” Dirk said, smirking.  “I know you wouldn’t do that over something so petty as a nickname.”

“Oh thank heavens for that,” Jake said.

“Hey,” Dirk nudged him with his shoulder as they continued.  “What’d you think of Jane?”

“She seemed nice.  And also very intense.  It was a little frightening, truth be told.”

“I think part of the character of Jane Crocker is her singular focus on sniffing out the truth, although I get what you’re saying,” Dirk nodded.  “She’s of the opinion that this Lalonde chick is some kind of agent of whatever being is in charge of this place, and that’s why she decided to run against her in the election.”

“I’m not going to lie,” Jake said.  “But that sounds dashed improbable.”

“Well, given how much we don’t know, is it really?  I’m skeptical, as well, but if she’s right then that answers one or two of our big questions right there.”

Jake shrugged, and grabbed Dirk’s hand in his own.  Success!

 

A week later, the candidates gathered in the Auditorium for a public debate.  It was, Rose considered, a term applying loosely to what was actually going to happen: the candidates would stand before the student body, and answer a series of questions.  Their opponents would do the same, and that would be the end of it.  Questions would be posed by students, teachers, or the candidates themselves.  That, probably, was how they were able to justify the use of the term.  Rose snorted to herself.

Jade and Dave both were present, sitting in the back of the audience.  She hadn’t heard from John, or his mysterious friend, in a while, which was just as well.  It was possible, she’d concede, that she had royally screwed the pooch on that one.  But there wasn’t anything that could be done about it now.

The gym teacher arbitrated the event, and Rose waited until her name was called before approaching the microphone.

“Good morning,” she said, in response to her introduction.  The questions came, and Rose breathed out once before answering.

“Ms. Lalonde, you are a late-comer to this race.”

“That is correct,” she said.

“What made you decide to run for student council president?”

 _Time to bluff my way to electoral supremacy_ , she thought.

“Truth be told, I was unsatisfied with the platforms my fellow candidates are running on.  Better attention to track and field is hardly a policy to base an entire campaign on.”

The students snickered appreciatively, while the track team hissed from the left.  Rose smiled benignly at them.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued.  “Our sports teams form a vital part of our school community.  However, when one is elected to the student council, one must allow their attentions to encompass the whole school’s needs, and not just one facet of the student body.”

“As student council president, what policies would you like to see enacted?” the gym teacher asked.

“I would re-examine the rules governing student access to technology.  I think it’s strange that everyone has access to a laptop, but cannot acquire something so simple as a cell phone.  Furthermore, our campus is in the middle of the forest, and from what I’ve seen our emergency preparedness policies are sorely lacking.  An initiative to cover those needs would be one of my top priorities.  I care about the safety of the student body, and would make that my chief concern if elected.”

There was a round of applause at that, and Rose gave a small bow.  The gym teacher quieted everyone down.

“I believe your opponent, Ms. Crocker, has a few questions she would like to ask.”

Jane stood up, accepting the gym teacher’s microphone, and took a few steps forward so she was even with Rose.  She cleared her throat.

“My opponent certainly has noble views,” she began.  “But I contend that is not the whole story.  Rose Lalonde, I put it to you that you served a detention sentence a little more than a week ago.”

“That is correct,” Rose said.  It wasn’t as if it were some great secret, although it would hurt her chances of winning.  _What’s your angle, Crocker?_

“And what were the charges?”

“There were allegations of bullying,” Rose said, gritting her teeth somewhat.  _Damn._

“Allegations, Lalonde?” Jane inquired almost mildly.

“Yes, allegations,” Rose responded.  “Bullying is a crime this school rightly does not tolerate, and any accusations to that effect were swiftly dealt with.  It was a misunderstanding, and nothing more.”

“Tell me, then, why has the student in question, who shall remain anonymous, why has that student not been seen attending classes since that detention?”

Rose did not respond.  Not doing so would look terrible, but she couldn’t think of a plausible excuse that Jane wouldn’t be able to pick apart, and lying would be worse than remaining silent.

“I don’t know,” she said finally.

“So you see,” Jane said.  “Rose Lalonde cares for your safety, just as any playground bully cares.  Once she is through with her victims, she puts them out of her mind as if they had just…disappeared.  I for one would not feel confident with such a person on the student council, let alone sitting as its president.”

“Hey, you’ve asked your question,” the gym teacher said, and Jane handed him back the microphone.  There was disquieted murmuring throughout the auditorium, and Rose caught Jade’s worried frown as she said a closing statement and sat down.  It was not a great start.

After a few more candidates stood up and had their turns, it was time for Jane.  Rose was planning her riposte during the lull.

“Ms. Crocker, where do you stand on the issue of student discipline?”

“I think it’s abysmal,” she said.  There was outright anger at that, but she ploughed ahead.  “I think it’s unacceptable that we should wake up one morning to find our school facilities defaced, and laden with dangerous objects that disrupt our learning environment.  I think it’s unacceptable that incidents of bullying and intimidation occur as frequently as they have done, with more students being sent to the infirmary this month than have done in all my time at this school.  I think it’s unacceptable that the only response to these threats by our teachers is a slap on the wrist.  I don’t enjoy walking from class to class, living in fear that I might be the next victim of some attack.  I would enact stricter policies of police and enforcement, and return some sense of normalcy to this school.”

Rose raised her hand, and the gym teacher handed her his mic.

“Would you mind, as a point of academic interest, being more specific with regards to these enforcement policies you would enact?”

“What the school needs is greater student involvement in rulekeeping.  I would deputize a number of student officers to patrol the corridors during classes to monitor for rule breakers.  These same deputies would report directly to me, or the teachers.  As well, a student committee should be created to judge cases of disciplinary action, and determine the proper sentence for those who step out of line.”

“And are you saying, then” Rose said over the intrigued whispers coming from the students.  “That these deputies would be solely accountable to you?”

“Is there a problem with that, Lalonde?” Jane asked.  “As a point of interest, I have never once stood before the principle or another teacher for having broken any rules.  My record is unimpeachable.”

“And would you make this a prerequisite for anyone seeking to become deputized, or sit on your disciplinary committee?”

“Of course,” Jane said, as if this were obvious.  “It’s time the students stood up for their own safety.  Surely you would agree it’s only prudent.”

Rose turned the mic back over to the gym teacher and sat down.  Jane’s ability to sway the students was troubling, but she was hardly out of the race yet.

 

“Dave,” she said later, cornering him by the vending machines.

“Woah, Rose, what’s with the sudden invasion of space here?”

“How would you like to put on a concert tonight?”

“They’re called raves, Rose, get with the lingo,” Dave said, sounding affronted as he retrieved a Coke from the machine behind him.  Rose gave him an unimpressed look, which he returned.

“Fine, a rave,” she said.  “Tonight, in the auditorium.”

He took a long, long sip of his drink.  Rose counted out the seconds of this truly epic sip, willing herself not to react.  Her self-control was truly heroic.  Dave swallowed while he considered the proposition.

“Sure.”

 

“Oh fuckin’ A!” Roxy crowed, fistpumping the air while John lay sprawled on the floor.  He was trying to read an incredibly dense novel (part of a series Roxy owned that she said her mom wrote, but John wasn’t sure how it was possible for her to have it if that were true).  He let his face fall on the page, unable to muster the willpower to continue.  The shenanigans!  They were too convoluted for him to follow.  He looked up at Roxy, who was doing a kind of victory dance on her bed.

“What happened?  Who died?”

“Nobody died, silly,” she said, turning to him ecstatic.  “But there’s gunna be a parTAY!”

“What?”

“Check it,” she said, turning her laptop to him.  It was a blog page for none other than TurntechGodhead, the legendary DJ maestro extraordinaire (sic).  A banner at the top advertised a gig for that night in the school auditorium.  “Fukkin’ sweet, amirite?”

“I guess,” John said.  “His music’s pretty good.  I saw that last show he did at the cafeteria.”

“Oh man, it was legendary,” Roxy said.  “Just, so off the chain!  Those things are like the only reason I go back to campus anymore, fo reel.”

“Yeah, but,” John fidgeted as he sat up.  “I don’t do crowds.”

“Oh, baby,” Roxy gushed, putter her hands on her cheeks.  “You just haven’t been out with the RoLal yet.  Nobody paints the town red like Roxy MFing Lalonde, lol.”

John looked her up and down once, trying to judge how serious she was.  She _looked_ serious enough.  For Roxy.  Which was like saying the sun looked a bit dim. 

“Okay, fine, I’ll go.  But I’m not dancing.”

“Woo!  Sweet!  Johnny Boy I swear to you tonight is gonna be epic!”

Roxy danced around some more, pulling up a few of TG’s tracks on her laptop and jacking the volume all the way up.  John found himself headbopping to it, which was something he supposed.

 

Rose stood watch by the auditorium doors, propped open to afford total access.  Dave was all set up in the sound booth, and Jade had rigged the lightshow.  A projector screen unfurled over the stage, currently showing nothing.  Some students had showed up early, and a few more snuck in at the stroke of show time.  From up in the booth, Dave set up the intro.

“Are you ready for this?” his voice came out low and carrying from the speakers onstage.  The assembly cheered.  “I said, are you ready for this?”

There were shouts, cheers, catcalls.  It was hardly the overwhelming crowd these shows usually attracted, Rose considered, but the night was still young.

“Drop it,” Dave said, and threw the sliders up to max.

The bass dropped.  Soon enough, the reverbs off the dorms were enough to attract a crowd of dozens more curious students.  From the cafeteria, John and Roxy slipped out of the fenestrated pane above the vending machines.  Roxy was decked out in glowsticks and neon pink, while John still had his regular old uniform.  He’d left the jacket behind, of course.  Roxy took him by the hand and dragged him across campus to the venue, chattering away about stuff that John didn’t really get.  He hadn’t listened to most of Dave’s stuff, and just nodded along when he was supposed to.  Just inside, however, a voice stopped him cold.

“John Egbert.  What a surprise.”

He turned and saw Rose leaning against the wall, but didn’t have time to respond before Roxy had pulled him away.  The press of students closed around him, cutting her off from view.  John suddenly couldn’t breathe, but Roxy was yelling in his ear and jumping up and down with the beat, and didn’t notice.  Lasers traced flashing shapes on the ceiling, and an old cartoon reel played on the projector, spliced to match the current track.  John was hit from behind, and stumbled forward.  It was too hot.  He wasn’t even wearing his jacket, and the people were all suddenly laughing at him.  He gasped for air again, reaching out for Roxy, but she was gone. 

 _Fuck this, fuck fuck fuck_ , he panicked, shoving his way through the crowd until he was at the edge of the auditorium.  He found a flight of stairs that took him up, out of the sea of people (they were fake people, they weren’t real, they were still terrifying).  The stairs came out on an upper level of seating where a bunch of students hung out.  John dodged past them, ignoring any looks they threw his way.  He just wanted to sit in a corner and calm down.  He was becoming dizzy, his vision spinning as he found the first door and stumbled through it.

“What the fuck?”

He had found the sound booth.  Dave was giving him a look as he quickly shut the door behind him and slid to the floor.

“Dude, you alright?”

John nodded compulsively, gasping for breath.  Things were muffled in here, but not much.  Still, the only person around was Dave, and Dave was…not an immediate threat?  John wouldn’t say friend yet, but the sight of Dave didn’t make him want to run away or throw up his internal organs.  The blonde pulled off his headphones and hit a few buttons on the board.

“Bullshit, you’re hyperventilating.”

John shook his head, taking another deep breath or six through his mouth.  Dave tossed him a pocket handkerchief (it was red and had a white crow embroidered in one corner, which was pretty well done).

“Hold that over your mouth until your breathing calms down again.  I don’t want to have to drag your unconscious ass back to the lab.”

John was pretty sure that’s not how one was supposed to do it, but he was seeing stars and so didn’t question it too much.  Dave went back to the board while he sat by the door, adrenalin slowly wearing down.  His hands stopped shaking, and his heart, eventually, stopped attempting to beat its way through his rib cage to freedom. 

“Thanks,” he said.  Dave simply nodded.

Suddenly, the door behind him was yanked open.

“Dave!” Jade said, running inside.  “Woah!”

She tripped over John and went sprawling.  John, for his part, curled up to protect his glasses, and lay there wheezing and clutching his side where Jade had accidentally kicked him.  Dave smirked.

“Nice going, Harley.”

“Shut up, coolguy,” she said.  “There’s no time!  Campus security is on its way!”

“So?” Dave shrugged.  “We always give those guys the slip.”

“Yeah, but they’ve brought the teachers, too.  And Jane’s leading them right here!”

“Okay,” Dave said, turning back around.

“Okay?” Jade was flummoxed.

“Yeah, Rose’s plan worked,” Dave said, transitioning to the next track.

“This was part of a plan?” John asked, completely lost.  Jade and Dave both exchanged looks.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” Jade said at last.  “Sorry for kicking you.”

She looked at him sheepishly, and John would’ve felt compelled to forgive her, but he knew her better than that.  Those round frames and buckteeth were as deadly and duplicitous as they were pouty and cute. 

“You’d better get gone, Jade,” Dave said.  “I can shake the fuzz no problem.”

“Gotcha.  Bye Dave!  Bye John!” Jade said, dashing back out.  John simply sat there for a minute more while Dave did his DJ thing.

“Dude, you heard her,” he said.  “The teachers are coming.  Do you want another detention?”

“I…” he said.  On the one hand, fleeing was a good suggestion.  On the other hand, the crowds.

“You…?”

“I don’t like…crowds,” he finished, shrugging one shoulder and looking down.  It sounded dumb when he said it aloud.

“You serious.”

“Uh, yeah?  You did see me just now, right?”

“Right.”

Dave took down the mains and spoke into a microphone attached to the board.

“Ravers and Ravettes, it’s come to my attention that the Man is about to shut this racket off.  What do we all think of that noise?”

From below, a loud chorus of disapproving and pissed off shouts and calls rose up.  Dave smirked.

“Fuck.  That.  Noise,” he said, and threw the mains back up. 

Down below, Rose examined her nails as the first several security guards entered the auditorium.  They were greeted with jeers and curses by the dancers from the floor.  With some difficulty, and a lot of backup, they managed to corral the students into the middle of the room while the teachers went up to the sound booth.  Jane came in last, accompanied by the gym teacher.  Rose took that opportunity to slip out unnoticed.

“Looks like it’s time to bail,” Dave said.  He shrugged on his school jacket and gave John a hand up.

“Do you have a plan?” John asked.

“Not as such,” Dave said.  “Try to keep up.”

Dave opened the booth door just as the teachers had reached the upper level.  He turned to John and nodded at the emergency exit at the top of the seating area before running directly toward the stairs down.

“Guard skill: Adagio,” he said under his breath, and suddenly he was moving too fast for John to follow.  He flashed among the teachers, who were waving their arms wildly trying to grab him.  One came close, but Dave seemed to fade in and out of his reach, causing the teacher to lose his balance and fall.  John was awestruck, until one of the teachers saw him standing there in the booth door and came forward menacingly.

“Oh crap.”

John jumped over the nearest row of seats, climbing up to the top row as the teacher came after him.  He stumbled a little, but kept ahead of his pursuer.  Another teacher had the same idea, though, and had run up the side steps to the top, cutting him off.  John was trapped, until a blur zipped up behind the teacher and body checked him into the wall.  Dave stood by the exit door and beckoned John to follow.  It was a pretty sweet getaway.

 

They ran into Rose at the terrace, and Jade.  John almost turned around and ran back, but Dave caught him by his shirt collar.

“So, did it work?” he asked.

“I’d say so.  Enough of them saw Jane raining on their parade that the story will spread.  If there’s one thing the NPC’s hate it’s someone taking away their toys.”

“Uh,” John said.  “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rose said to him.  “You should probably not come back to campus for a few days anyway.”

John looked at her, then at Jade, and finally at Dave, then back to Rose.

“I suddenly understand jack shit.”

Dave patted him on the shoulder and shoved him off toward the class building. 

“Go see to your girl, alright?  Leave the school stuff to those of us who actually live here.”

John would’ve retorted, but decided not to, and just settled for kicking a rock as he trudged back to the cafeteria. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this instead of catching up on NaNoWriMo. This is also (obv) a multi-chapter arc so expect more updates soon?


	6. The Vote

“Gentlemen,” Rose said, folding her hands on the empty desk.  “How are we going to kill superman?”

 

There was a soft knock on the door.  Dirk looked up from his drawings.  Jake barely had time to cover himself with the bed sheets before his roommate answered.

“Dirk, I wonder if…oh!” Jane covered her mouth in surprise and shock.  Dirk was wearing only a pair of boxers, and Jake was very obviously blushing at being seen in this state by a lady.  “I’m sorry.  Is this a bad time…?”

“No,” Dirk said, folding his arms.  “Can we help you?”

“Ah,” Jane said, clearly still squaring herself.  “Yes, as a matter of fact.  I need a favor.”

 

Jade sat at a nearby desk, head balanced on arm, brow furrowed.  Dave leaned against the wall at the front.  It was an empty classroom in the secondary class building that Rose had temporarily appropriated for campaign purposes.

“We are talking about winning the election, right?” Jade asked finally.  “We’re not actually planning on killing anyone?”

“Not that it’d do any good, mind,” Dave pointed out.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Rose said.  “Jane’s knack for demagoguery puts her a head above your run-of-the-mill NPC.  We might be dealing with something else entirely here.”

 

Jane waited outside for Dirk.  When he joined her, it was fully in uniform, and a neutral expression pasted to his face.

“So what is this about?” he asked.

“Well, I need help finishing up a project,” she said.

“What class?”

“Computer science.”

 

“Think she’s human?” Dave asked.

“It’s the best explanation,” Rose replied.  “But she’s also quite dangerous.  At the very least she is ambitious, maybe enough to effect a total paradigm shift should she succeed.”

“Simple.  We kill her, and bring her in for questioning,” Dave said.

“No,” Rose shook her head.  “That’s not how we do things.”

Jade and Dave exchanged looks.

“Well,” Jade said.  “It didn’t stop us with John.”

Rose facepalmed.

 

“Would this be at all related to the radio transmitter project I helped you with last week?” Dirk inquired as they walked.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Jane waved him off.  “Entirely unrelated.”

They walk in silence just long enough for Jane to realize that Dirk isn’t going to ask her to elaborate.

“Alright, so it’s not computer science per say,” Jane said, drawing out her syllables a bit.  “I need help syncing my laptop with the computer lab, or whatever the gosh darned technical term is.  They lock the place up at the end of the day, and I still have projects I need to work on!”

“Okay,” Dirk replied, face pointed straight ahead.  “You know, you could’ve asked the teacher to tell you how to do it.”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop in to see my good pals Dirk and Jake, and it just so happens you can help me with my problem!”

“I call bullshit, Crocker.”

 

Rose marshaled her thoughts, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling at her eyelids in doing so.  She let out an exasperated sigh.

“I think the lesson we should take from the Study In Blue is to not immediately resort to killing potential allies just to prove that we can.  Apparently, some of the recently dead regard this as a bit of a faux pas.”

Jade and Dave regarded her silently.  Jade scuffed her shoes on the floor.

“Man, now I feel like an old ghost person,” she sighed.

“Nice Sherlock reference there,” Dave noted.  “Very topical.”

“Good, you’re actually listening to what I’m saying rather than staring heedlessly off into the void.”

“Rose, if you’re planning to go all Holmes on Moriarty here, I’m just letting you know I decline the position of Watson.  You and Jade can go on all the homoerotic crime solving sprees you like, I’m totally down with that.”

Jade snorted and flicked a paper football at him.

“I’d make a better crime solving partner than you would, anyway,” she scoffed.

“Damn skippy, you would,” Dave replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, Jade, how about it?” Rose asked with a knowing smirk.  “Care to join me on the beat, finding clues, getting ourselves into situationally suggestive scrapes, and running circles around those fools down at Scotland Yard?  I’ve already got a case lined up.”

“You got it, Rose!” Jade grinned, jumping up smartly.  “What’s it called?”

“Yeah, a cool case needs a snappy name, something to keep the publishers happy,” Dave added.

“This mystery of deception, trickery, and fraud,” Rose said in a dramatic whisper.  “Is called: The Case of the Purloined Votes.”

Jade has her hands balled into fists, clutched together in front of her gaping mouth in the suspense.  Dave’s eyebrow made the slow and steady climb up his forehead, one muscle at a time.  A full twenty seconds passed.

“Weak,” Dave snorted.

 

“Dirk, can I tell you something?” Jane asked as they sat down in the computer lab, laptop held carefully in her messenger bag.  “When I was alive, do you know what the biggest complaint about my person I ever got was?”

“I’m reasonably certain that I don’t know, but that you’re about to tell me anyway,” Dirk quipped, booting the computer in front of him, a semi-new Frackintosh model that he was pretty sure didn’t exist in real life.

“Well maybe I won’t, then,” Jane huffed.  She took out her laptop, handing it to Dirk.  He snorted at her background: a composite of all the actors who had ever played Inspector Poirot on film.

“There wouldn’t be any catharsis to your story if you didn’t, though,” Dirk pointed out, opening up the terminal on Jane’s laptop.

“Fine,” Jane rolled her eyes a little.  “Here’s the thing: I was told I was skeptical to a fault.  People would tell me things and I would dismiss it out of hand, or assume they were hiding things from me!”

“Were they?”

“Sometimes,” she acknowledged.  “But whether or not they were, it wasn’t any way to make and keep close friends.”

Dirk raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re saying I should be less skeptical of you.”

“What I’m _saying_ ,” Jane pressed.  “Is that maybe I didn’t have an ulterior motive for wanting to stop by?  Is that allowed, or am I too much of a conniving politician?”

“Your campaign posters do recall the vaguely Orwellian,” Dirk considered reasonably.  Jane snickered and punched his arm lightly.

“Big Jane is watching you,” she said, drawing out the o in you and waving her arms over her head superciliously.  That pulled a chuckle out of Dirk.  “See, Dirk?  It’s not a bad thing to loosen up every once in a while.”

 

The campus-wide vote was held in the gymnasium, and conducted by class.  Campaigning had been stiff and unrelenting: Jane gave daily speeches in the plaza, accompanied by a small band of NPC’s passing out posters and wristbands; Rose set up and maintained an online messaging board (Dave’s suggestion) where she answered questions and listened to student concerns (submitted anonymously), and she nightly posted videos of ‘Lamplit Chats’.  Her constituents could be seen wearing ribbons to class.  Other candidates held rallies of their own, but they were poorly attended, and it soon became clear that the real race was between the bitter rivals on the student council.

Outside the gym, the candidates set up tables for last minute barnstorming, and the crowds drawn to Rose’s and Jane’s table nearly blocked the building’s entrance.  Dave and Jade approached, Jade skipping while Dave sauntered casually with his hands in his pockets.

“Rose!” Jade said, reaching the table excited and out of breath.  “Good luck today!”

“Thank you, Jade.  I’m reasonably confident the electorate will make the right decision, but your support is appreciated.”

Jade rolled her eyes at Dave.

Over at Jane’s table, Dirk and Jake stood by as Jane called out campaign slogans to the passing students.

“Jane, there can’t possibly be anything you can say to them at this point that will make them change their vote,” Dirk pointed out in a lull in the chatter.

“That’s as may be,” Jane replied.  “But I’m expected to be here and rally support, so that’s exactly what I’m doing.  Make yourself useful and hand out more wristbands, why don’t you?”

“Pass,” Dirk said, holding up an abjuring hand.  “Politics isn’t something I involve myself in if I can avoid it.”

“Well if you won’t, then I’ll give it a go,” Jake puffs out his chest a bit to swagger forward.  He was nervous, all those watching eyes, but reminding himself that they weren’t people made it easier.  He called out in a loud, carrying voice  “Vote for Jane Crocker!  Jane Crocker for President!  Jane Crocker’s the choice for me!”

With a smirk, Dirk yanked him back by his shirt when he started to run out of air while Jane smiled brightly.

 

John walked toward the gym, sulking slightly (not a lot, because he was mostly bored and not wronged or displeased, but one must never underestimate the power of the angry eyebrows to repel people—it was the only way he was going to find out what was going on).  As he rounded the corner, he saw a dwindling line of students filing in, and a large outpouring spreading out on the patio.  Tables had been lined up before the building, and with a quick scan he spotted some familiar faces.  He took a deep breath, and went for it.

“Hi, Dave,” he said when he got close enough to talk.  “Hello, Jade.  Rose.”

“Well, that about establishes the hierarchy of familiarity,” Rose remarked dryly.

“What’s going on here?” John asked Dave, ignoring this.

“Election season, dude.  Time to put your stars and garters on, take to the streets and lobby for the Cause.”

“Okay?” John looked a bit nonplussed.

“What are you doing here?” Jade inquired.  “We thought there wasn’t any way you’d come down from the lab.”

“Yeah, well,” John scuffed the ground, then pulled at his collar.  As long as he didn’t look at the crowd behind him he was fine.  More or less.  Enough not to hyperventilate.  “Roxy went off on some ‘seekret errands’ and I got bored.”

“Well, you’re just in time to cast your vote for the new student council president,” Rose smiled, hands folded.  “I don’t mind telling you that this is a rather significant event that may well affect you, should you decide to make more frequent trips onto campus.  As a student, you are entitled to a vote.”

“Who’s running?” John asked.

“I am,” Rose said, and then nodded to her right.  “And she is.”

John looked over to where Jane sat talking to a tall muscular blonde guy and an oddly dressed dude with scandalously short shorts.  The blonde wore a pair of pointy shades, and periodically glanced over at Rose’s table.

“Who are those guys?”

“She’s Jane Crocker, a jingoist and esteemed member of the student council.  She seems to take issue with the significant lapses in student discipline that have been cropping up lately.”

Rose fixed John with a significant look, which he deflected with a snicker.

“Well, what are you running for?”

“I mean to oppose her,” Rose arched an eyebrow.  “I think she’s dangerous and shouldn’t be given the kind of power she might expect to wield in that position.”

“Alright, if you say so.  She looks pretty nice to me.”

“Don’t be fooled: she hides an iron will under that maternal smile.”

“Hey, Jade,” Dave said, suddenly.  “Why don’t you accompany John inside?  Help loosen him up a bit.”

“Sure!  If that’s alright?” she looked at John, who took a few steps back.

The students entering the gym had all disappeared inside, but many still came out, and the lobby was still crowded.  John was about ready to turn around and nope back on up the mountain when Dave patted him on the shoulder and shoved him toward the door.

“You’ll be fine, dude.  Gotta get over this thing eventually.”

Jade skipped up and offered him her arm, which he took with great reluctance.  As they went, she talked, stopping to wave at people she knew.  John flinched away from contact, but found that as long as Jade didn’t get too far ahead of him it wasn’t horribly unpleasant (but it was still unpleasant). 

“You’re doing great!” Jade confided in him as they passed into the basketball court, where more tables were set up with ballot boxes.  “I know it’s overwhelming at first, but you’ll get used to it if you keep trying.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know about it?  You don’t get panic attacks around strangers.”

“No, I guess not,” Jade bit the inside of her cheek.  “But I didn’t have a lot of contact with other people for a long time when I was alive.  And then I woke up here, and there were so many people!  It was amazing, but also really terrifying, because what if they all hated me and didn’t want to talk to me?  Turns out the problem was that only a few of them were real, but I don’t let that stop me from saying hi.  You get paragon points for being nice to the NPC’s in games, usually.”

“Hey, Jade,” he asked, a little uncertainly.  “Do you remember, uh, how you…you know, died?”

“Mhm!” she nodded emphatically.  “Rock climbing accident.  I was climbing up the side of a temple when my rope slipped and down I went.  I mean, I guess that wasn’t what killed me, but I was pretty screwed anyway.”

“So what killed you?” he raised an eyebrow, curious, dubious, and actually regretting broaching the subject a little.

“Dehydration, or exposure.  One of those.  I was out there a long time, and it sucked!”

“Didn’t you think to call for help?”

“No, fuckass, I couldn’t,” Jade smacked his arm, and it wasn’t especially kind.  “I grew up by myself on an island in the middle of nowhere.  Who was I going to call, the coast guard?”

“Maybe?  I didn’t know that!  Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” she said with a shrug.  Then, more subdued, “I don’t get the chance to talk about it with Dave or Rose very much.  It’s not the same if it’s someone that didn’t die, you know?”

John said nothing.  He wasn’t sure what to do with that statement.

“Sorry, this is probably really weird for you,” Jade laughed self-consciously.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” he verified.  “I guess…I don’t know, that sucks?  I still don't remember anything from before, so I can’t really say I understand or whatever you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation.”

“You’ll remember someday,” she said confidently.  “All the many ways you life was awful, how you died under horrible, terrible circumstances.  And then, when you do, we can talk all about it!  It’ll be great!”

John had fixed her with an open-mouthed flabbergasted look, and then they were at the head of the line.  Jade pushed him forward gently so that he was directly before the makeshift voting booth.  He sat down in a chair and took up a nearby pencil and a blank ballot.  The candidate’s names were listed with check boxes next to them, and then there were a few lines at the bottom for write-ins.  He scoffed, and checked the box by Jane Crocker, folding the ballot and dropping it into the box.  A nearby teacher nodded and he shuffled off to wait for Jade to cast her own vote.

He folded his arms and kept his eyes down until she’d finished, and then declined an invitation to sit with them at lunch.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said as they walked out.  “I still don’t trust you.  Or Rose.”

“That’s okay.  We didn’t really give you any reason to,” Jade bit her lip and looked off to the side.

“Sorry,” she said, and then left him alone.  He frowned, standing now in a more or less empty lobby while Jade disappeared from sight.  He let out an exaggerated sigh.  Accepting Jade’s apology was his first instinct, but it also felt like doing so would be…he didn’t know.  Admitting defeat?  Exposing himself to danger?  Scuffing his feet on the floor, he turned around and walked out a side door so as not to run into the terrible trio.

The gym was empty when he passed it again, and the voting booths had been cleared of ballot boxes.  The path that John let himself out onto went past the dorms, and the incinerator.  It was getting later in the afternoon, and most students had sports practice or club activities, and so on a whim John decided to head back to his dorm room.  It might be nice to have his own laptop—all his student issue stuff he’d left behind and his uniform was starting to smell.

The room was just as he’d left it—completely bare of personal effects, sheets rumpled from a few half-hearted attempts to sleep—except that someone had left a package on his desk wrapped in purple paper.  He opened it carefully, and saw blue knitwear.  A letter fell out, written in curly lavender script.

 

_Dear John,_

_I leave this here against the advice of some, and with little hope of its timely reception as you seem bound and determined to, as the phrase goes, ‘ollie outie this house of squares’ (sic).  Nevertheless, I feel that I must attempt some form of redress for my actions, and this is honestly the only thing I could think of._

_I apologize for killing you; for scaring you into believing I had malicious intent toward your person; for making inappropriate assumptions as to your character, and subsequently causing disrespect where none was meant.  If there is some way you can see to extend forgiveness toward myself and my compatriots, I humbly request that you do.  If further gestures of goodwill are required, please do not hesitate to make them known.  We all sincerely wish things had gone differently, and that we might count you as our friend someday._

_Yours etc._

_Rose_

Oh, well that was nice, John supposed.  He looked at her present more carefully and tried to work out what it was.  It was a blue rectangle with the same sky blue insignia she had put on his sweater (a memory he still shuddered at), and it looked like some sort of sleeve.  John found his school-issue laptop and slid it inside: a perfect fit. 

“Well alright then,” he said to the room.  “I guess they’re serious.”

He’d have to think about it later.  Maybe he could convince Roxy to tag along (who was he kidding, it wouldn’t even be hard).  He stuffed some clothes into a backpack, along with his laptop and charge cable, and left.  Roxy had left the fenestrated pane in the gym, so he made his way back there.

There were a couple of students by the incinerator as he walked by, emptying boxes into it.  As he drew level, he saw that they were the ballot boxes from earlier, and that the smoldering wisps of ash and paper floating up from the flames were the votes.  Two boxes lay empty at their feet already.

“Hey!  What are you doing?” John called out.  They students stiffened and turned, fixing him with gazes that weren’t concerned or panicked, but almost robotically blank.  He saw they were wearing identical red headbands.  It might’ve been a trick of the light, but their eyes seemed to glint with that same, bright crimson.

The standoff ended with them scooping up the boxes and running.  John jogged after them, but they were too fast and he lost sight of them around the class buildings.  By that time people were heading to dinner, so he hid out in a classroom for a while, unsure what to do.  While he waited, he pulled out his laptop and browser surfed.  His student email account was full of unread messages that he boredly scanned before it hit him.  He could email a teacher!  Or Rose, although who’s to say those students weren’t acting under her orders?  He discounted that theory quickly, though: red didn't appear to be her color.  Typing quickly, he sent her a recounting of what happened, and added as an afterthought a thank you for the present.

“There.  It’s not my problem anymore,” he said, shutting his laptop and grabbing some snacks from the vending machines.  The infirmary was unlocked, so he quickly made his way back to the lab.

 

The election results were announced during lunch the next day, amid a flurry of rumors.  Accusations of voter fraud had been leveled, it was said, at both the leading candidates, and there were reports of hard-line constituents from both sides getting into altercations.  But no one was admitted to the infirmary, and the ballot boxes had been allegedly locked in a teacher’s office all night.

Rose and Jane both were summoned to the principal’s office and reprimanded for falsely laying charges.  Rose was subdued, a sense of foreboding growing within her each passing minute, and kept her responses courteous but perfunctory.  Jane played the part of indignant victim quite well, insisting that she was neither guilty of fraud, nor of false accusation.

“The very idea is crazy!” she said heatedly.  “What would I stand to gain by breaking the rules at this point in the race?  Nothing, that’s what!”

Rose did not react to her, only saying, “I submitted that an investigation should be taken after receiving an anonymous tip.  The fact that nothing was turned up would suggest my informant was wrong.  If I have laid any charges, I will of course withdraw them.”

The sense only increased as, afterwards, she watched Jane purposefully retreat with an air of smugness she couldn’t quite place.

The cafeteria was crowded with students and teachers as the principal read the results.

“With a clear majority, it is my great honor to announce that this year’s student council president will be…Jane Crocker.”

Uproarious applause greeted this news as Jane came forward to give her acceptance statement.

“Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity to serve as your student council president,” she said, smiling and clasping her hands in front of her.  “It’s gratifying to see so many of you taking issues of safety and rule breaking as seriously as I do, and I swear to you now I will do everything in my power to live up to your confidence.  Thank you.”

At a back table, Dave stared at his food, affecting disinterest while Jade worried at her bottom lip.  Rose narrowed her eyes and folded her arms.

“Every get that feeling you’ve just been done over without knowing what’s been done or how?” she asked, glancing at Jade.

“Yeah, this is all kinds of suspicious,” Jade nodded.  “I’m sure John wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“What he said dovetails nicely with my suspicions about Jane—her capabilities go above and beyond the average student, and now it seems she’s been influencing students on the sly to do her dirty work.  That we can’t prove it shows she’s clever.”

“But we’re on to her,” Dave pointed out, sipping a juice box loudly.  “She’s good, but she’s not _that_ good.”

“In any case, I suspect the first thing she’ll do is set about deputizing NPC’s for her own private army.  Dave, do you feel up for more ninja antics?”

“Girl don’t even front like you’ve got the DL on ninjas,” Dave scoffed.

“Follow her,” Rose pressed.  “And find out about these headbands John mentioned.”

“What should I do?” Jade asked.

“Do what you always do,” Rose said.  “Act out, break dress code, skip class, and see how long it takes for them to bring you in.  You’re not exactly subtle.”

Jade gave a mock salute.

“Yes, sir!  Or, ma’am, I guess,” she giggled.

“Dismissed, soldier,” Rose mimed the gesture back.  “If we’re lucky, we find something we can use to get her deposed, or at the very least defanged.”

Still, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, Rose considered as she took her tray up and went to her afternoon classes, knowing that one had gone from the opposition to the resistance without understanding what it was one was resisting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this took me forever to write.
> 
> JANE CROCKER FOR PRESIDENT.
> 
> Hopefully the next installment doesn't take as long.


	7. Striders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween motherfuckers. I'd actually meant to have this posted before midnight, but events conspired against me. Have an update. Next one might show up before 2015.

_One week later…_

 

The rain lashed down, soaking through John’s jacket and shirt, plastering his untamable hair down to the back of his neck. He gasped, breath coming out in clouds of condensation, gun clutched uselessly in his numb fingers. Dave stood protectively in front of him, sword drawn, shades hiding his eyes as they tracked over the field of battle. He shifted his weight minutely. John shivered.

“Dave, don’t,” he pleaded through chattering teeth.

Dave lifted the sword and held it in both hands like a baseball bat, and then charged forward.

 

A shot rang out.

 

_Six hours previously…_

Dave sat in his sound booth, feet kicked back and head bopping to this new track he was mixing. His laptop beeped at him as a new message dropped into his inbox, which he left open in case he needed to ignore one of the two other people that might want to contact him. He did just that, because damn this beat was sick, better call the school nurse. As the bass wound down, he glanced over; it was from Rose. Dave rolled his eyes.

Operation: Crockpot, or whatever stupid code name they were using to describe Rose’s vendetta against the student council prez, had been going poorly. Jane hadn’t done anything (that Dave cared to note) out of character, or that flew in the face of the established paradigm. The red headbands had been seen again, but they just seemed to be the weird badge of office worn by her student deputies. She had few friends, two in particular that Rose found interesting and whom she had asked to be shadowed on occasion. Dave only rarely saw the one in booty shorts, and that was never to go to class, only to walk the nature trails and make action movie noises periodically. He saw the cool guy in the shades somewhat more frequently; however, he seemed to have an uncanny knack for shaking Dave. But then, Dave hadn’t really been trying.

In a word, Dave was getting bored with all this cat and mouse. It was blisteringly obvious what was going on, but he just did not have time to care about it. Nevertheless, he checked the message.

 

_Dave,_

_Jade has been compromised. Meet me on the school roof ASAP._

_Rose_

What.

 

Rose stood with her back to the fence, knitting needles held loosely at her sides. Her laptop lay off to her right, her message to Dave sitting ignored at the top of her outbox. He would either come running (or flashstepping, whichever), or he wouldn’t. In either case, Rose was prepared for contingencies. The door to the roof opened a few minutes later and Dave slouched out, quirking an eyebrow at her over his shades.

“Sup, Lalonde.”

“The usual pleasantries, I’m sure.”

Dave let the door close with a slam, walking over so he could lean casually against the fence, arms folded expectantly.

“So I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark here,” he said, a slight edge to his tone.

“I suppose not, if you’ve abandoned your customary circumlocutions,” Rose shot back. She shifted her weight from foot to foot out of nerves. “Let me explain.”

 

_Commence Flashback_

 

“Oh boy, I can’t wait to go meet Rose for lunch and eat all this tasty food and make fun of Dave for being a huge butt,” thus spoke Jade, skipping merrily to and fro. “I’m going to water my pumpkins like a total asshole until then!”

Enter two goons, wearing Crocker Corps diadems.

“Avaunt, yon rulebreaker! Thou art verily trespassing on territory bound by strictures most severe that nary a common wretch may violate these sacred borders without petition!” thus spoke the first goon.

“Produce proof of thine special favour or prepare to taste the consequences for these transgressions!” thus spoke the second goon.

“Oh no, I’ve been busted! This is entirely unprecedented in all my years being a dead schoolgirl with a fantastic tush!” thus did Jade declaim her distress, clutching her breast and wilting like a delicate blossom.

 

_Pause Flashback_

“Dave.”

“What.”

Rose fixed him with an unamused glare. The two were sitting at the edge of the roof holding finger puppets while the lunch bell tolled dolefully below.

“Stop abusing Flashback or I will snap those shades in half.”

“Girl, you know this version’s better than anything you could’ve come up with.”

Rose’s eyebrow arched.

“How much are you willing to stake on that claim?”

Dave scratched his chin with the Jade finger puppet. A breeze picked up, ruffling his hair.

“I’ll give you my hamburger casserole lunch tickets for the next week.”

“Deal.”

 

_In Which Our Hero Finds Herself In A Pickle…_

As soon as those two flatfoots broke down my door, I knew I was in some bad china. I’d been in my office, waiting for an important communiqué from my employer, Rose. She was a real swanky broad, clearly had a rich uncle or two in the country, and she always knew more than she let on. My job had been simple: tail the Crocker Corps, wait for them to screw up, and bring the evidence to Rose. The only problem was, they were good. Maybe _too_ good. They were getting cocky, so I let my hands wander down to where I kept my piece while they said theirs.

“We’re closed,” I barked.

“We ain’t interested in an appointment,” the first henchman said, sporting a broken jaw and a thousand-yard squint.

“You been askin’ a lot of questions lately,” the second henchman said, cracking knuckles covered in cheap gold. A left hook from that one would do more than damage my stunning complexion. “Our boss ain’t happy with that.”

“You boys here to scare me?”

“Ha! Nobody scares the famous Detective Harley,” Squint-eye guffaws.

“We’re here to put you down, dog,” Ring-fist plunged a fist into his coat. Might as well have sent a telegraph. I yanked up my piece, an old Remington my granddaddy left me when he passed. I was looking down two slugs, and just as I was gonna pull the trigger, I suddenly couldn’t remember if I’d left the gas on. Shit.

 

_Will Our Hero Survive This Tense Encounter? Tune In Next Time!_

“Woah, Rose, time out.”

Rose paused, just about to leap through the air firing off finger guns like a badass. She had produced a fedora from somewhere.

“Yes?”

“Jade doesn’t believe in killing the NPC’s. Why would she be trying to shoot them?”

Rose rolled her eyes, dropping a hand to rest on her waist.

“You have no appreciation for dramatic tension. Obviously her move was to blow out the light and use the confusion to effect an escape through the window. You really need to brush up on your film noir tropes.”

Dave scoffed.

“Whatever, your version is bunk.”

“Then let’s see you do one better.”

“You’re not getting my burger casserole.”

“I will _feast_ on your burger casserole,” Rose tossed the fedora to the side. “And no using Flashback!”

“Bluh. Fine,” Dave stood up, dusting his pants off. “I think I got the basic details down.”

 

_A Lonely Pumpkin Farm In The Desert…_

Calamity Jade was what they called her back in her heyday. Now, she was a simple pumpkin farmer, makin’ ends meet with the basics out here far from civilization. So it was with more ‘n a little surprise that she marked a pair of shadowy riders approaching from over the horizon to the west. She took her sweet time with the mornin’ chores—ain’t nobody could come between her and her farm, not tax collectors nor the devil hisself—and by the time the two figures were at her front yard she was washing up for lunch.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” she asked, eyein’ them up.

They were an unfriendly sort, all black leather and shiny stirrups, brand new guns glistening in their holsters. A red band wound round each of their hats as they dismounted.

“We’re here to take you down, Calamity Jade.”

“You done wronged yer last mark.”

Calamity Jade spit.

 

_Meanwhile, Thousands Of Miles Away…_

“Calamity Jade?”

Dave was in the middle of a Mexican standoff with himself when Rose interrupted. He gave her a disparaging look, and then his time clone drew and shot him with a loud, “Bang!”

“Oof!” Dave said, hand going to an invisible wound on his chest. “Rose, look what you’ve done! You’ve gotten me killed in the middle of this thrilling tale of adventure. We hadn’t even introduced the politically incorrect native character yet!”

“Oh woe, however shall we sleep at night,” Rose rolled her eyebrows as Dave fell to the ground. A moment later he jumped back in time, and became his time clone, who straightened.

“Haha, that was even funnier the second time around.”

“It was a bit over the top,” Rose agreed. “Hadn’t really expected you to go the cowboys and Indians route, to be honest.”

“I am an enigmatic fellow, Rose,” Dave deadpanned. “My past is shrouded in secrets and deception, my life is a mystery.”

“I wonder if that would be true if John weren’t an amnesiac,” Rose mused. Dave frowned.

“Ain’t nothing John could tell you about it even if he _did_ magically get his memories back.”

“In any case,” Rose talked over him. “We’re getting off-track a bit.”

Dave sighed, long-suffering.

“Are you seriously bound and determined to get my burger cass. Is that a thing we’re doing instead of going to lunch or rescuing Jade.”

“Never stake your soul on a wager with a Lalonde,” Rose grinned, as a cat playing with a particularly dim mouse.

 

_Deep In The Magical Forest…_

 

The good witch Jade lived in a tower surrounded by bountiful fields of flowers, pumpkins, herbs, and other things with which she crafted the magical potions she used to help her woodland friends. Often she would receive visitors from far and wide, seeking some remedy or another that she would provide with a wink and a smile free of charge. There were those jealous of her power, however; the evil Batterwitch, sworn enemy of good witches everywhere, and especially a thorn in Jade’s side ever since she set up shop in the nearby village.

One day, a pair of thugs from the Batterwitch arrived at Jade’s doorstep…

 

_High On The Summit Of Greater Learning…_

 

“Oh wow, holy shit,” Dave said, chin resting in his hand. “It literally just now occurred to me why Crocker’s name sounded familiar.”

“Are you done?” Rose asked.

“Don’t mind me, just thinking aloud, forebodingly.”

“Indeed.”

 

_Once Again Deep In The Magical Forest…_

Jade answered the door with a grin and invited her guests inside. It would be rude not to! And besides, she’d taken care of plenty of the Batterwitch’s minions over the years. But these were no ordinary minions: they had special enchantments to make them resistant to befuddlement and ensnarement. Jade offered them her world famous tea, thinking they would drink it and fall under her spell and trouble her no more. Alas! The spell broke instantly, and Jade was clapped in irons!

Now it’s common knowledge that witches cannot break iron manacles, and so the good witch was trapped! Her only hope was to leave some sign for others to find her. Gathering up the last of her fleeing power, she cast a spell across all space to signal an old friend of hers, the seer, whose preoccupation with the future almost let her overlook the dire warning. Gathering with her a knight, a rogue, and the heir to a neighboring kingdom, the seer set forth on a grand mission to rescue the good witch Jade from her captors.

 

_Back On The Summit Of Greater Learning…_

 

“Okay, the only thing that kept me from interrupting that and calling bullshit was the fact that the good witch Jade had woodland critter bff’s,” Dave said. “Also, are you saying you told John and Roxy about this. Because that's what it sounds like you said just then.”

Rose put her witch’s hat at robes back in her backpack.

“Of course I told them. They’re human, just like us, they’re affected by Jane’s subterfuge just as we are.”

“And what makes you think they would actually budge to help us out,” Dave said. “They already made their opinions on this school crystal clear by ollying the fuck out, and I don’t think John is ready to let bygones be when it comes to us.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Rose smirked.

“Okay, it’s creepy when you do that, because I feel like you’re coming from some context I am not privy to, and don’t want to know anything about, but that I’m still going to get shafted by if I just ignore it, which is a shitty thing to do, Rose. You should be ashamed.”

Rose shrugged and turned on her heel.

“In any case, we need to find Jade.”

“Isn’t she just in super detention for life,” Dave said, getting up to follow her.

“You would think so, but I’ve checked the usual rooms set aside for it and she’s not there.”

“Okay, so Crocker’s got herself a secret jail for miscreants. We find that, we find Jade.”

“Just my thinking. The only problem is, I have absolutely no idea where to start looking.”

She held the door open for Dave, who paused at the top of the steps for a brief moment.

“Yes?” Rose asked, letting the door slam shut behind her and crossing her arms in expectations.

“I’ll tell you about it later. BRB gonna go see the nurse.”

In a flash, Dave was down the stairs and away before Rose could open her mouth in protest. She heaved a frustrated sigh and hitched her backpack. Well, if Dave wasn’t going to take this seriously she might as well make another attempt. Missing humans was…disturbing in its singularity.

 

Dirk frowned at the computer screen before him. It was a truly singular circumstance that prompted him to break façade, but then he’d never encountered something like this before in his entire afterlife (admittedly brief though it had so far been). Ever since Jane had become the student council president, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that she was Up To Something Untoward, which was never a pleasant experience when it was bound up in sentiments of friendship and camaraderie. On consideration, was it preferable to give the benefit of the doubt and become compliant to a nebulously bad thing, or should one risk breaching the trust of a companion in order to assuage one’s doubts? Dirk found he preferred the latter, even if it was distasteful.

To that end, he’d been auditing Jane’s computer activities (something the consort IT services were appallingly bad at). After a week of sifting through book reports (almost all of them detective mysteries or précis relating to forensics), computer science projects (which were rather poor. Dirk felt a twinge of guilt at uncovering this information), and home economics spreadsheets (Dirk made a note to mention as an aside to Jane his dearth of cooking skill, just to see what she’d say) he had turned up almost nothing. At least until now.

Dirk sat in the computer lab, early afternoon sun spilling gold across the chartreuse carpet. He was alone among the humming towers and idle monitors, so he pushed his shades up his forehead and squinted, trying to tell himself that he was seeing things. Nope, he was not in fact experiencing any visual hallucinations that he could identify.

He had uncovered a forum hidden from the normal school network, of which Jane was the admin, dedicated to the activities of the Crocker Corps. Many of the posts were patrol routes and shifts, weirdly cheerful reminders not to slack off or to try to recruit as many people as possible. A comprehensive list of school rules sat at the top of every page. But what had Dirk subconsciously reaching for a sword he’d only ever carried in life (and which hadn’t followed him in death) lay in one of the sub-boards: a blacklist. At the top of the list sat Rose Lalonde, not in itself surprising; however, under indexed crimes was simply ‘potential human’. Beneath Rose’s dossier was one for the black-haired gardener with glasses, apparently named Jade Harley. Her status was listed as ‘apprehended, conversion in process’.

“Okay, Jane,” Dirk said. “That’s not at all evil or untrustworthy.”

He scrolled further down and his heart nearly stopped.

Dave Strider; potential human; priority target; DO NOT ENGAGE

Dirk Strider; human (confirmed); compliant

Jake English; human (confirmed); harmless

“What the fuck.”

Dirk was the epicenter of an emotional maelstrom. He hardly knew which to deal with first: the betrayal at Jane’s presumption; the sudden fierce protectiveness at seeing Jake’s name there before all of Crocker Corps; the confusion at what Jane was playing at; a familiar spike of paranoia that he was being monitored even now, and that as soon as he navigated away from that page his status would change from ‘compliant’ to ‘liability risk’ or something equally legalese.

But the memories surfacing at the name Dave Strider were the hardest of all to look at, and nearly impossible to put aside.

 

_“Little man, I’m gonna be gone a while. I’ve got things need taken care of.”_

_Dirk clenched his fists, tiny though they were. Strider’s weren’t supposed to show fear, weren’t supposed to show anger. At five years old, Dirk was still learning._

_“You’ll be home this weekend,” he said, an ultimatum._

_“I hope so.”_

_Dave reached out and ruffled Dirk’s hair, which was getting long and unruly. Dirk squawked and slapped him off. Bro never did this sort of thing!_

_“Bro, wait!” Dirk said, smoothing his hair back down as Dave picked up his skateboard and katana by the door. He turned back and quirked an eyebrow over his aviators. “You owe me a strife for this.”_

_Dave smirked._

_“You. Me. The roof. No later than Saturday.”_

_Dirk remained standing in the living room long after the apartment door had closed, fighting angry tears. But Striders didn’t cry, either._

Dirk clenched his fist and punched the computer screen. It cracked and went dead, glass shards stuck in his knuckles and littering the keyboard. Clenching his teeth, he withdrew his hand from the monitor, dimly regretting his outburst as blood started to drip onto the tabletop.

He cleaned himself up using the first aid kit, and left, locking the door behind him. Maintenance would no doubt be by to fix the computer before morning classes. In the meantime, his mind raced with plans and priorities. Assuring Jake’s safety was number one, of course. Confronting Jane with regards to her machinations was second, although that seemed like an operation that would require somewhat more planning. The question of Dave could be put off for now, unless he made another attempt to shadow Dirk (probably on Lalonde’s orders, the girl had the making of a ruthless spymaster).

Jake wasn’t at the dorms when Dirk returned, although this wasn’t an entirely unexpected complication. Dirk’s heart began racing as he considered the possibilities: (1. Jake went for a walk, and was on the nature trails—safety risk minimal (although he could potentially fall and break his neck or something equally token); (2. Jake went to the gym for one of his covert stress relief regimens—safety risk considerably higher, as this was trespassing on school property after hours without permission; (3. Jake went to the library to get more movies—safety risk moderate, since the library was still open to students at this hour. It would be fastest to check that possibility first, then head to the gym, and if nothing turned up then posting a vigil on the nature trails might become necessary.

Dirk rarely ran, although not because he was out of shape by any means. There were few moments in his life, or his death, that filled him with any sense of urgency. As he leapt the landings down to the first floor, startling the consorts as he went, those moments resurfaced in his mind, almost mockingly.

 

_Dave returned on Wednesday, drenched in rain and covered in blood. His katana was broken. Dirk sat on the couch angrily re-watching Black Beauty for the sixth time when he heard the apartment door open._

_“Bro, you were supposed—whoa,” he said, mouth agape._

_“Hey, little man,” Dave said, coughing. His hand came away red. “I’m on my last leg here, want to be the world’s greatest baby bro and grab me the first aid kit?”_

_Dave sank to the floor, propping himself up on his skateboard. Dirk scrambled over the couch, flashstepping as fast as he could to the bathroom. The first aid kit sat in the linen closet (which was stuffed with fluffy pink towels and a surfeit of bathroom reading material) on the top shelf. Dirk jumped up, latching onto the shelves and monkeying his way to the top. The kit was large and well stocked, and somewhat too heavy for him to manage on his own, so when he manhandled it off the shelf it fell, carrying him with it._

_“Ow!”_

_Dirk held the back of his head where he’d struck the edge of the sink, an explosion of stars behind his eyes. He sat there a good thirty seconds, trying to will the pain away. There was a clatter in the hall, and the bathroom door burst open._

_“Shit, you okay lil man?”_

_Dave stood there, and Dirk could’ve bawled if the circumstances had been different. Dave winced as he knelt down and checked the back of Dirk’s head._

_“Lucky you it’s just a bruise,” he said. He coughed again, a wet hack that Dirk didn’t like. His knowledge of human anatomy was limited, but he was pretty sure Dave’s hands shouldn’t have been redder when he went to wipe them on his jeans. “Hey, I’m gonna be in here a while, okay? Go order some Chinese and put a movie in. I promise everything’s going to be fine, and tomorrow you’ll get that strife I owe you.”_

_“Okay, Bro,” Dirk said, façade back in place. His legs wobbled as he walked to the kitchen, dragging a chair from the dining room table so he could reach the phone. But no amount of Crab Rangoon would calm him until Dave was okay and not bleeding._

The library turned up nothing. Neither of the librarians had seen Jake that day (“He’s the only student around here with the audacity to wear Daisy Dukes to class, you really can’t miss him,” “Yeah, the walking dress code violation. Probably would’ve reported him if he weren’t so invested in watching every season of _RuPaul’s Drag Race_.”), so Dirk turned around to leave. He noted two members of the Crocker Corps in the Ancient Histories section eyeing him with curiosity, red tiaras firmly in place. That sneaking paranoia crept up his spine and he marginally hastened his exeunt. Outside the clouds were gathering, threatening rain. Dirk hurried to the gym.

 

_The woman introduced herself simply as Mom. She was tall, her blonde hair flawlessly bobbed, her lips a shade of black Dirk suspected didn’t exist in this spacetime, her gown smoothly accentuating her curves, its lavender matching her eyes perfectly. In one hand she held a bag of knitting. In the other, a martini glass._

_“Arrangements have been made to transfer custody of you to me on a temporary basis,” she was saying. They stood in the living room, policemen moving to and fro, writing things down and talking over radios. Dirk had refused to leave, and it was lucky Mom had arrived when she did or there might be more bodies. Nobody had the right to touch Dave’s things._

_“You will have some time to pack your things,” she went on. Her tone was caring, but distant. Dirk felt like he was being glad-handed, and bristled. “I understand this is a lot for a child to go through. Mr. Strider has told me much about you, in particular your resilience, but don’t feel as though you need to put on a brave face for me. It is okay to mourn.”_

_“His name’s Bro,” Dirk said quietly, fists clenched, staring at the ground._

_“I beg your pardon?”_

_“I said, his name’s Bro!” Dirk shouted, before turning to run into his room. Mom let him go, although several officers did attempt to stop him with, ‘hey kid, this is a crime scene.’ In his room, he grabbed his computer and some snacks and stuffed them into a backpack. Then he dug around in the back of his closet for a long box, easily taller than himself. His bro had put it there when he was little, saying, ‘someday little man, this sword’ll be yours, but not until you can beat me in a strife.’ Dirk ripped the box open and beheld a katana, new and beautiful. Well it was his now, so he strapped it to his back and then grabbed his rocket board._

_The last he saw of the apartment for a long while was a single backward glance of his broken bedroom window. Mom stood on the roof, watching him._

“Jake!” Dirk called, throwing open the propped door to the basketball court.

“Dirk! What the devil!”

The hanging punching bag slammed into Jake’s face, knocking him backwards. He was stripped down to his shorts, knuckles bloody, sweat dripping down his back. Dirk spared a moment to appreciate the view before walking swiftly forward. Jake stumbled up to his feet, wobbling a bit from being potentially concussed. The bag oscillated back and forth, and Dirk enveloped Jake in a hug that took them both by surprise.

“Dirk? Mate, not that this isn’t an unwelcome surprise, but what…?”

“Shh, no words now,” Dirk said, chest heaving a little. Jake began rubbing little circles on his back as he composed himself. It was the least Strider he’d been all day, but the number of fucks he currently gave was a whopping zero. Finally, he stepped back. Jegus H, he’d even teared up a little. He pushed his shades up to rub at his eyes.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you safe,” he said. Jake gave him a puzzled and alarmed look.

“Of course I’m safe. What’s there to be afraid of?”

“Jane,” Dirk replied, and Jake’s mouth fell open. “I don’t know what her plan is, but she’s using the Crocker Corps to track down other humans and, I don’t know, brainwash them to do her bidding.”

“What!? Are you sure?” Jake clasped his hands to his face, aghast. Dirk was a bit nonplussed.

“You are taking to this story remarkably fast for someone with as much hope in the goodness of mankind as you’ve got, Jake,” Dirk said.

“Well, yes, of course,” Jake crossed his arms with a huff. “Why shouldn’t I trust you?”

Dirk’s heart swelled at that bald-faced statement.

“Yes, well. In any case,” Dirk said. “The bottom line is, Jane’s gone evil, and we have to stop her.”

“You’re darned tootin’ we’re going to put the kibosh on her schemes! Just point me at ‘em, I’ll give them the old what for!”

Jake assumed a boxer’s stance and looked around for enemies to pummel. Dirk almost face-palmed, almost kissed him senseless (he was the cutest, but not the brightest).

“While I know you’re itching for some action movie heroism, Jake,” Dirk said. “This mission requires more stealth and espionage. We need to find Jane’s HQ, and rescue the girl she’s already taken hostage.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening.”

Dirk and Jake jumped, turning in tandem to look at the propped door. Jane stood there, flanked by four members of the Crocker Corps, red tiaras all in place. The consorts’ eyes all glowed an ominous red, as did Jane’s. When she spoke, her voice was oddly mechanical.

“I’m truly sorry it has to come to this,” she said, the look of sympathy on her face reaching Stepford levels of uncanny valley. “But you don’t understand what’s going on here, and what I’m doing is too important to be interrupted. Please don’t force me to do something rash.”

“Rash like apprehend and convert us?” Dirk said, standing defensively in front of Jake. He tried to motion to Jake to inch toward the far set of doors, but he didn’t dare glance back to see if the message was understood. “Where’s Jade Harley, Jane? What did you do to her?”

“Jade is on another mission at the moment,” Jane said. “One too important to leave in the hands of any regular NPC. Please, if you’ll just come with me I can explain everything.”

“Like hell,” Dirk said.

In a flash, he was in the air, one swift kick breaking the hook for the punching bag. In another flash, he had it hoisted and thrown at the shocked student council president. Jake looked equal parts dumbfounded and aroused as Dirk turned and ran, grabbing his hand and yanking him to safety.

“I’m probably going to regret that later,” he said as he kicked open the far doors. They were on the west side patio between the greenhouses and the gym, down the hill from the dorms.

“You really should’ve,” Jake gasped as the two made their way toward the sports fields. “Stretched out. Goodness! Before attempting any lifting.”

“Damn, English, where’s your cardio?” Dirk said, barely even registering the burning in his lungs. Rain began to fall. “Don’t tell me you’re all strength no stamina.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Jake spluttered, slapping Dirk’s shoulder.

They had reached the plaza. There was a thunder crack, and a flash of lightning, and suddenly a figure stood before them in the rain. She wore a sailor skirt, her hair was black and thick, and she carried a rifle. Her eyes glowed red behind her glasses and under her red tiara.

“Fuck,” Dirk stopped.

“Hi,” Jade said, her voice carrying a bestial undertone as she spoke.

“What do you want with us?” Jake demanded, his brave face on even as he shivered in the rain.

“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Jade shrugged, hefting her rifle. “I want you two to die.”

Two shots rang out, but as Dirk prepared to flashstep away there was a green spark just in front of his heart. He didn’t remember the bullet’s impact.

 

John and Roxy were playing Bard Quest when there was a tapping on the window. Roxy paused the game and glanced over, a grin blossoming across her face.

“Ey! It’s our favorite DJ Ninja Warrior, Ttech Ghead himself!”

Dave crouched on the other side of the pane at an angle that gave John immediate vertigo. Roxy was unphased as she opened the latch and let him backflip inside (the show off). He landed with a whump on the bed and fell on his ass, somewhat ruining the entrance.

“Smooth,” John remarked sardonically.

“Hey we all have our off days, man, it’s no big deal,” Dave rolled up to his feet, planting them firmly on the floor and turning to face the other two. “So I assume you know the drill.”

Roxy and John exchanged looks.

“Wut?”

Dave waited for a beat and then performed a flawless x2 Facepalm Combo.

“That meddling, flighty broad,” he muttered.

“Dude, what are you talking about,” John asked. “We’ve been here all day trying to beat this goddamn Chartreuse Knight.”

“So neither of you checked your emails since yesterday?”

“No? Why would we?”

“Okay, that’s fine, I can work with this,” Dave muttered to himself again. “So listen here’s the deal: Jane’s finally snapped, Jade’s been captured, and we’re going to mount a rescue mission. Do we have an understanding here.”

“Wait who’s Jane?” Roxy inquired, unpausing the game and resuming her round with the boss.

“New student council prez, totally evil, also definitely a human with some kind of axe to grind,” Dave summarized. “Y’all really should remember from time to time to keep up your social networking, do I have to do all the exposition here?”

“Oh man,” John said, opening Roxy’s laptop and navigating to her email client. “This is actually a thing, wow.”

“Of course it is, why else do you think I came here with the Call To Fucking Adventure sign? I’m not into that roleplay shit, that’s Lalonde’s line.”

“Lalonde?” Roxy stopped, turning to look at Dave. The Chartreuse Knight decapitated her mid-ballad.

“Yes?” Dave replied, eyebrow raised. “Rose Lalonde, member of the student council, wicked sense of revenge, goddamn it I am not your goddamn guardian fairy. Do you know how frustrating it gets to be the most knowledgeable person in a given room about basic shit like this? It’s the worst. It’s _The Slim Shady LP_ worst. You look it up, and when you’ve satisfied yourself that she’s not your long-dead great grandmother or something by all means let me know so we can go save my girlfriend and overthrow the goddamn batterwitch herself.”

Dave’s voice took on a pleading tone.

“I could be mixing so many tracks if it weren’t for this bullshit.”

Roxy shrugged and tossed the controller to John, who was glancing back and forth between them.

“Nah, I’m good. If it’s important it’ll probably come up later, right? So, who’s this damsel we’re saving from distress?”

Dave made a gesture along the lines of, ‘thank you, gods of rap, for this delivery from stupid,’ and then squatted down next to her.

“So, first things first, we gotta hook back up with Rose,” Dave said, producing a sketchpad and assortment of markers from fucking nowhere and drawing the plan out. Rose he rendered as a weird purple octopus thing, John was some kind of blue mushroom, Roxy was a dark blue…John wasn’t sure, but it might’ve been a bomb? Dave himself was a red record with a scratch down the middle. Arrows went from these three to the octopus.

“Here, gimme one o’ them thangs,” Roxy said, picking up a bright pink marker. She scribbled out her bomb and redrew a mutant cat face. Then she drew a pile of guns under the trio. “Now I ain’t saying we’re gonna use ‘em, but I for one am not leaving this secret lab without an arsenal.”

“Roxy, no shooting the NPC’s,” Dave said reprovingly.

“Duh, I know that,” Roxy rolled her eyes.

“Just so we’re clear,” Dave shrugged. “Once we do that, we probably use black magic to locate Jade.”

Dave drew an obnoxious bright green pumpkin and a set of arrows from the octopus leading to it.

“And then I guess we deal with Jane somehow.”

Dave drew a red spoon and powder blue mixing bowl and surrounded it with question marks.

“Question,” John asked, putting his hand up.

“Shoot,” Dave said, pointing the markers at him. John picked out an orange and a forest green marker, then drew a pair of pointy orange shades and a pair of green short shorts.

“What about these guys? They’re always hanging around Jane.”

“Oh man, what if they’re like her evil lieutenants,” Roxy said.

“Nah, those guys aren’t a threat,” Dave said dismissively. “Rose had me following them on my down time all week, they’ve got the most boring secrets imaginable.”

“Like what?” John asked, curiosity piqued.

“Like the fact that they enjoy long walks in the woods, have a refined appreciation for the cinematographic arts, and also that they’re fucking.”

“Bluh!” John made a face. “Okay, I guess I didn’t want to know that.”

“As I said, boring.”

Dave stood up, the notepad and markers disappearing back into who knew the fuck where.

“Alright everyone, let’s get this operation started.”

 

Rose leaned against a wall just around the corner from Jane’s room, reading her book by the light of the stairwell nearby. She had every right to be there, after all. Classes had let out, and there was the usual rush of students dropping off books, heading to sports practice, band rehearsal, or what have you (apparently there was a robotics club on campus attempting to build a replica gundam). When the crowds died, with no sign of Jane, Rose quietly marked her place with a bookmark and sidled toward her target. If Jane wasn’t using official student council spaces for her dastardly plans, then she must be brewing this revolution from home.

The door was unlocked (because no NPC would barge in uninvited unless doing so was part of some hilarious over-the-top character quirk), so with a quick glance to make sure she wasn’t being observed she let herself in. Jane’s room was almost disappointingly normal: posters of famous detectives lined the walls, the bed was made neatly, the desk was a mess of papers, clothes were scattered mostly in the general area of the laundry basket.

“Of course, why make it easy for anyone else,” Rose said to herself in an undertone, sitting down at the desk and rummaging through the papers and drawers. It was all class work, as far as she could tell, although there were a perplexing number of recipe sheets (but then Rose knew nothing of home economics). However, in the bottom drawer, taped to the one above it, she found a book.

“Well, well, what’s this?”

It was a personal diary. Rose felt no compunctions going through it; Jane might have harmed her friend, privacy was a luxury no longer afforded to her. A few secrets, some psychological vulnerabilities, and Rose would be able to turn the tables on this fight. She settled in, memorizing every new page.

It was raining outside when she heard the gunshots.

 

The rain lashed down, soaking through John’s jacket and shirt, plastering his untamable hair down to the back of his neck. He gasped, breath coming out in clouds of condensation, gun clutched uselessly in his numb fingers. Dave stood protectively in front of him, sword drawn, shades hiding his eyes as they tracked over the field of battle.

Jade stood on the far side of the plaza, rifle held loosely in front of her. Nearby lay two bodies, one blonde the other wearing booty shorts. Roxy, Dave knew, was somewhere to the back tracking Jade with her gun. Jane stood in the middle, a posse of NPC’s surrounding her in a loose ring.

There was silence except for the pebble-fall of rain and the occasional burst of thunder. Dave shifted his weight minutely. John shivered.

“Dave, don’t,” he pleaded through chattering teeth.

He lifted the sword and held it in both hands like a baseball bat, and then charged forward.

“Guard Skill: Adagio, Guard Skill: Da Segno,” Dave muttered. He was a blur across the field, dodging right past Jane with little more than a light shoulder tap. John blinked and he was standing in front of Jade, who was in the process of raising her rifle. Dave batted it aside with his sword, but Jade flashed green and was standing behind him, rifle still raising.

A second Dave bowled right into her, knocking her onto her face. She let out a growl of frustration as first Dave kicked her rifle aside (second Dave continued going through first Dave’s motions), and in another green flash she was floating in the air above them.

 

A shot rang out.

 

The bullet flashed through Jade, but instead of killing her it was sent somewhere in the arts building. Dave leapt up, swinging at her middle with his sword, but she teleported behind him and dropkicked him into the plaza. Moments later, second Dave fell out of the sky on top of the pair of them. Dave flashstepped away.

“Damn, Jade,” he said. “You’re faster than you used to be.”

Her response came very, very slowly to his ears. The fight continued regardless.

“Stupid, physics solutions are time independent!”

At that she spiked him into the ground, breaking his neck with an audible snap. Second Dave met the same fate automatically a moment later, and the two fused back into a single Dave.

Jane sighed and shook her head. Her NPC’s had disarmed John, although cajoling Roxy to come out of hiding was proving difficult.

“This was so stupid,” Jane said. “Why do you all insist on making things so difficult?”

“Cuz we ain’t evil, lady!” Roxy shouted from somewhere across the river.

“You don’t even know what’s happening here!” Jane shouted back, peeved.

“Don’t we, Ms. Crocker?” a voice as smooth as Egyptian cotton, dripping in venom but enjoying every syllable like a sweet candy, called out from the steps leading up to the class buildings.

Rose stood on the landing just above the plaza, surveying the place with a mixture of contempt and resignation.

“It’s about time you showed yourself, Ms. Lalonde,” Jane spat in reply, calling her guards back to her. “It seems every other one of your friends couldn’t wait to make an appearance. I was beginning to think we’d have to do things the hard way.”

“You may dispense with the hard-boiled act, Jane,” Rose rolled her eyes. “We both know that’s not who you really are.”

“You know nothi—!”

“Yes, yes, I know nothing, they know nothing, the only person here with any sort of knowledge is you, we know this song and dance,” Rose interrupted. “The only problem is, you yourself don’t know what in fact is going on. You’ve never known why it was that anyone could disagree with whatever noble intentions you were expounding on, why nobody seemed to approve of your methods, and you were always shocked when things never turned out the way you expected them to. Do you want to know why that is, Jane? Would you like dear Mommy Rose to tell you?”

Her tone had never strayed far from mockingly condescending, and John glanced nervously at his captrix every couple of seconds in case she decided the shooting should resume. She now held John’s gun, her knuckles white, veins bulging. Then she calmed.

“Enough with the theatrics,” Jane snapped her fingers. “Jade, fetch!”

Jade barked (wait seriously, thought John), and vanished in a flash of green. She appeared in front of Rose, and laid her out with a punch to the gut. Another flash of green and she axe-kicked Rose into the ground. With a third flash the pair of them were in front of Jane, who knelt down to lift Rose’s face out of a puddle.

“Distract me all you want, Rose, but I’ve already won. All the humans are here, so we can begin the final phase of my plan.”

“And what’s that?” Rose spat at her feet.

“I knew what this place was the second I woke up. The endless cyclic days, the idyllic but unfulfilling setting, the walls and restrictions; this is purgatory, Rose. This is where you wait to get into the real afterlife. And do you know how to get there? You have to experience a moment of true happiness. That’s what I’m doing here: I’m going to give you that moment, you especially Rose, because I just can’t stand the sight of you here in my school a minute longer.”

Jane withdrew a tiara from her backpack and placed it gently over Rose’s head.

“What makes you think you know what can make me happy?” Rose demanded. “What makes you think you can make any of us happy? You can’t even do that for yourself!”

“Shut up!” Jane shouted, putting a hand up to her headband. Her eyes flashed red, and Rose let out a shriek of pain. “I know better than any of you! I’ve always known! People can’t do it for themselves, they need someone else to show them! Well who better than me, the student council president? Former CEO of the Betty Crocker Corporation! The World’s Greatest Nanna, once upon a time! Who are you to tell me I can’t do it!?”

Rose let out a derisive chuckle, even as the tiara caused her to grimace. Jane’s voice had broken twice as she screamed at her captive.

“You’re here, aren’t you? How happy could you have been, really?”

“I was happy! I had money, I had friends, I could have anything I wanted!”

“Your father must’ve been so proud.”

Jane let out an unearthly snarl, and placed both hands on her tiara. It flashed and sparked, Rose’s doing the same in sympathy. John couldn’t take it anymore; he wrenched his arms free and tackled Jane to the ground.

“No! Stop it! You’re just hurting her!” he said, grabbing the offensive coronet and ripping it off her head. He threw it as hard as he could against the ground, shattering it into several pieces. He wanted to cry, but instead he grabbed Jane close in a hug. The NPCs around the circle seemed to go a little limp, the redness fading from their eyes. Jade, too, suddenly found herself gripped with jelly-legs as the tiara’s dark whispers went static. She sank to her knees.

“Ugh, my head,” she said.

“I think I never want anything in my hair ever again for at least a week,” Rose said from where she lay curled on the ground, clutching her temples.

For Jane, the world didn’t exist. There was only this stupid looking human holding onto her like she was the last thing he had left.

“My dad was proud of me, too,” John said. “He always made me cakes, and told me he was luckiest man alive to have me for a son.”

“Mine, too,” Jane said, baffled.

“But my dad wouldn’t have wanted me to hurt anyone. He would’ve wanted me to be brave and try to help people, but not if it meant hurting them! Your dad wouldn’t have wanted that either.”

“Tell me about your dad,” Jane said, still completely unsure of what was going on or where anything even stood.

“I don’t remember him,” John replied. He let Jane go, and sat back so they were at arm’s length. “I don’t remember anything. But you have your memories. You know your dad. You’d still want to make him proud, right?”

Jane’s mouth fell open.

“I…”

And she was inconsolable.

The NPCs wandered off on their own, which was fine by everyone. Roxy emerged from hiding, gun still at the ready in case any headbands were still around, but Dave assured her (when he stopped being dead) everything was hunky dory. Dirk and Jake sat up some minutes later, and awkwardly shuffled off back to the dorms, unsure what to do with themselves.

“Hey, wait up!”

Dirk paused, half-tempted to break into a sprint. Jade ran up behind the two, stopping to catch her breath, hands on her knees.

“Uh, so,” she said, flipping her wet hair out of her eyes. “I guess I killed you both back there.”

“Jesus Dickens, she shoots us both through the heart, and all she can say is ‘I guess’? Unbelievable!” Jake fumes, throwing his hands up.

“Well!” Jade starts, as if to defend herself, but then changes tack. “Okay, yeah, I did. I’m really sorry!”

“It’s cool. You were being mind-controlled at the time, no hard feelings,” Dirk nodded at her.

“I still feel really bad about it. Look, I’ll make it up to you guys sometime, okay?”

Jade waved and pranced back toward the plaza. A flash of green later, she was standing next to Dave, who had watched this whole exchange. Dirk was tempted to…what? Talk to him? Strife him? Demand an explanation?

“Come on, mate, I’ve had enough of this confounded day,” Jake said, tugging Dirk by the sleeves.

“Yeah.”

 

“So Jade,” Dave asked later, after the rain had died and the stars were coming out. “Where’d you get those bomb-ass teleportation powers?”

“Duh, browsing Echidna!” Jade said, as if this were obvious.

“Bullshit, girl, that browser doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“Shows what you know, asshole.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. A Dave timeclone came up behind her and gave her a wedgie. She teleported behind the clone and kicked him so hard he ended up getting sent to some other part of campus.

“Well damn, guess it’s my turn to find out where I ended up,” Dave said thirty seconds later.


End file.
